


Pen and Ink

by palominopup



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Explicit M/M Sex, Implied Castiel/Alastair, M/M, Tattoos, Various Supernatural Characters - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-06
Updated: 2015-07-17
Packaged: 2018-04-08 01:04:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 33,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4284762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/palominopup/pseuds/palominopup
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean is the owner of Purgatory Ink, a tattoo studio.  Cas is a college professor and writer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

A butterfly. If Dean had a dime for every butterfly he’d tattooed on the ankles, shoulders or wrists of college girls, he’d been rich. The twenty year old girl currently lying on his table was getting one on her ass. Her giggling friend was flirting outrageously with him and he was flirting back, because that’s what he did.

It was Sunday, the shop wasn’t open, but he had a cryptic message left on the machine last Monday. The deep, raspy voice told the digitally recorded voice that he wanted an appointment with Dean Winchester. When Dean called the number the guy left, he told the guy he had an opening towards the end of the month. Dean explained that one of the other artists could fit him in sooner, but no, the guy wanted Dean. Then he shocked Dean by offering to double Dean’s usual fee if he could fit him in on a day the shop was closed.

That’s how he got stuck doing the stupid butterfly. He made the mistake of turning on the open sign and leaving the door unlocked. He came in early, so he could work on a couple of designs and look over the books since he was going to have to be here anyway. The shop didn’t get a lot of walk-ins, but these two girls were at the coffee shop across the alley and apparently decided a tattoo would be fun to have. Turning away the two girls would not have been cool because more than half of his work came from the campus of the University of Kansas. He could do a butterfly with his eyes closed.

The bell over the door rang and he grimaced. He hated the damn thing. Charlie said it was nice to know when someone entered the shop. Dean just grumbled that he never needed it before.

“Just have a seat and I’ll be with you in a few minutes,” Dean called out, not bothering to look up. He heard a reply but couldn’t pick out the words. He applied the protective ointment and bandage after he let the girl see it in the mirror. He led the way to the front of the shop and after enduring the hugs from both girls, he closed the door behind him. That’s when he saw the man sitting on the couch looking through his portfolio book.

“Are you Mr. Novak?” The guy told him his first name when they talked, but Dean couldn’t remember it. It was something weird. When the man looked up, Dean’s breath caught. He was beautiful. Vivid blue eyes, strong jaw, nice features, perfect lips and hair that Dean wouldn’t mind holding onto while he…

The client stood up and extended his hand. “Yes. Castiel Novak.”

Dean grasped the outstretched hand and shook it firmly. He eyed the man’s suit, blue tie and trenchcoat. So, Mr. Accountant wanted a tat. Probably his very first. His wife’s name over his heart or something equally domestic. “What did you have in mind?”

Novak unfolded a sheet from a sketchpad and handed it to Dean. Dean took it and whistled. “You want angel’s wings on what? Your bicep? Shoulder?”

Dean did a lot of angels and angel wings, usually as a memorial to someone’s passing away.

“I want them to cover my back and extend down my arms.”

“Whoa.” Dean was surprised. “Okay, sit down and let’s talk about some stuff.”

Dean waited until Novak was sitting on the couch again and Dean brought a stool out from behind the front desk. “First things first. Ink like this will be expensive and take four to five sittings. The sittings will be painful and you’ll be in the same position for a few hours at a time. Maybe you should start with something smaller.”

“I’m aware of the time it would take. The cost should not be a concern for you.”

Dean stared at the man, brows together, frowning. The man stared back, unflinching. “Alright. Since you want something this big, today will just be a consultation. I’ll look at your back and take some measurements. Then I’ll work up a transfer sheet. I can work you in on Sunday afternoons, if that will be okay?”

“That will be fine.” The man stood up again and removed his coat. He laid it on the couch and then removed his jacket. “Are we going to do this here or in the back?”

Dean shook himself out of his dirty thoughts. The man’s body looked almost skinny in the trenchcoat, but in truth, it was just lean with broad shoulders and a narrow waist.

“The back. Let me just…lock the door.” Dean turned off the neon open sign and locked the door. He led the way to his station. “Go ahead and take off your shirt and cop a squat on that stool. I’ll get what I need.” Dean kept his back to the man while he got his measuring tape. “Did you want me to use the exact picture you brought or did you want me to use my own design?”

“Whatever you think is best.”

Dean turned and couldn’t help the gasp. He bit his lip and coughed to cover the sound that had escaped. The guy’s body was perfect. Chest muscular without being buff, flat stomach, hipbones that Dean wanted to put his mouth on and dusky nipples. One had a mole right next to it, but that’s not what drew Dean’s attention. The man’s left upper chest had a beautiful tattoo of the tree of life morphing into birds flying up to his shoulder. He had a colorful orange and white koi on his right side below his rib cage, the tail disappearing into the waistband of his slacks. On one of his forearms, he had the words ‘Carpe diem’ and on the other in a courier font was the quote, ‘Every saint has a past, Every sinner has a future’.

When Dean could finally find his voice, he whispered, “Awesome”. The corner of the man’s mouth quirked.

“As you can see, I’m not a novice.”

“Guess not. I know better than judge people by their looks, but seriously, you rock the sexy accountant look.”

The man smiled and Dean loved how it reached his eyes. It made the blue seem bluer somehow. Dean wanted to ask about the meaning behind each tattoo, but some people didn’t like to share. He usually waited until he got them in his chair and they usually opened up on their own. “How many?”

“Seven.”

“That’s pretty awesome. Your koi is really beautiful. Who did it?”

“Ami James.”

“No fuckin’ way. Seriously? He’s one of the best. He did my sleeve.” Dean held out his arm and raised the sleeve of his t-shirt. The man walked closer, right up in Dean’s personal space and Dean stopped breathing. He used his fingertip to trace the outline of the phoenix rising out of ashes.

“Why is it holding a gun in its talons?”

“That’s a Colt. My family had one passed down from my great grandfather. I’d heard stories about it my whole life.” Dean didn’t tell him about how his drunk-assed father lost it in a card game. The man’s touch made his pulse quicken. Dean took a step back and motioned towards the stool. “Go ahead and sit down.”

Dean waited for the man to get comfortable and then he took his tape and began to take measurements. Dean let his own fingers graze across the warm skin of the man’s back. He looked down at the table where he’d laid the drawing Novak brought. “This picture is very good, but I think I can do better. I’d like to extend the wings down your arms.” Dean picked up his sketch book and a pencil. He began a quick sketch. Novak turned his head to watch. “I’ll have more detail, but this is the way I’d like it to look. You’ve got some great definition of muscle here.” Dean touched the center of the man’s back on both sides of his spine.

“You’ve come highly recommended and I was told I could trust your judgment.” Novak’s eyes found his and drew them in.

“Uhm…who…who…uhm…recommended…me?” Dean had to shake these nerves. The guy might think he held his needle like he talked.

“Ami.”

“Ami? You…like…know him?” Ami was one of Dean’s idols. He got to work under him for a few months in New York. Ami James had forgotten more about tattooing than most artists knew.

“Ami is a fan of my work, as I am of his.”

“Your work? What do you do? Are you a tattoo artist too?”

Novak chuckled. “No. I’m a writer.”

“Really? What do you write?” Dean loved to read. The name Castiel Novak didn’t ring any bells though.

“I write a series called Angel Blades, but the one that Ami liked was a standalone title called, ‘My Guardian’.”

“I’m not familiar with your stuff,” Dean confessed.

“It’s not everyone’s cup of tea. ‘My Guardian’ is very graphic horror.”

“I might have to see if I can find them. I read Vonnegut, Heller and I just got into Robbins.”

“Ah, I just used Cat’s Cradle for one of last semester’s discussions.”

Dean looked blank for a second, then he asked, “You’re a teacher too?”

“I teach literature at the University.” If Dean had known there were professors at the University of Kansas that looked like Novak, he may have gone to college.

“You’re an interesting man…” Dean didn’t want to butcher the guy’s name so he paused to think.

“Castiel. I was named for the angel of Thursday.”

“An angel, huh? So, are you one?”

“Am I one what?” Novak looked confused.

Dean laughed. “An angel.”

Novak tilted his head sideways and furrowed his brow. “Not in the least. Far from it, I’m afraid.”

“I lean more towards being a demon than an angel myself.” Dean grinned and the man returned it with a ghost of a smile.

Dean put his tape on the table and stood. “Okay, I’ll work on the design and you can come back Sunday around the same time. If you like it, we can start on it then.”

“That is acceptable.”

Dean watched him stand and pick up his shirt. It was a shame to see that body covered. Dean wondered if all professors talked like Cas…Castiel. He was a man of contradictions, that was for sure. Dressed like an accountant, talked like an upper crust snob and had the body of a sex god.

“What is your usual hourly rate?” Dean was so focused on the man himself that he failed to talk about money. Novak was slipping on his suit jacket and somehow Dean thought the reverse striptease was sexy.

“I charge two fifty per hour.”

“As I said on the telephone, I will double your fee.”

“Look, you don’t have to do that…”

“You come highly recommended and are working me in on your day off, I think that constitutes a higher fee.”

Dean chuckled. “I love the way you talk, Cas.”

He gave Dean a look of confusion, but didn’t comment. “I will see you next Sunday at one o’clock.”

“Bye, Cas.” Dean locked the door after him and watched him walk down the alley, trenchcoat slung over his arm. Dean still had some paperwork to do, but he lost interest quickly and grabbed his leather jacket. He locked up the door and walked across the alley to Sweet Java. The coffee shop was just one of the five businesses in Pirate’s Alley. The alley, near the center of downtown Lawrence, was prime real estate. Dean moved his shop in four years ago. Sweet Java, a coffee shop specializing in fancy pastries moved in last year. The other shops included a bar, a vintage clothing store and a small bookstore.

The coffee shop wasn’t crowded and Dean walked right up to the cash register. “Hey, Gabe, can you give me a coffee and one of those baked apple things?”

“Coming right up, Dean-o.” The short proprietor picked up the carafe and poured black coffee into a disposable cup. When he sat it on the counter, he said, “My baby brother is pretty, isn’t he?”

“Huh?” Dean looked up from the showcase where all the pastries were calling his name.

“Castiel…your new client…”

“Cas? Cas is your brother?”

“Well, well, you’ve already given him a nickname. That sounds promising. Then again, you aren’t his normal type.”

Dean couldn’t come back with a sarcastic reply.

“Cas got your tongue.” Gabe laughed at his own joke. “God, I’ve got to remember that one.”

“Can I just get my order?” Gabe’s humor ran from irritating to downright fucked up. Dean wasn’t in the mood for jokes.

“Fine. Be that way.” Gabe boxed up the apple dumpling and sat it next to the cup. “$4.85.”

Dean slapped a five on the counter and took his purchases. “Later.”

“Ta ta.”

Dean took the smaller alley that ran next to Hell’s Bells, the bar owned by his friend Crowley, out to the parking lot behind building. He got into his Impala and headed home. So, Cas was Gabe’s brother. Interesting. Was Gabe insinuating that Cas was gay? Or was it just wishful thinking on Dean’s part? Not that it mattered. Dean would bet money that Cas’ normal type was a Harvard graduate, not a high school dropout.

He pulled into his driveway and looked up at his house. Dean loved coming home. After the fire that killed his mother when he was young, his father sold the house. As luck would have it, five years ago, it went on the market and Dean bought it. It was a fifteen minute drive to the shop and only ten minutes over to his brother’s house. The house was too big for one person, but Dean wanted a family one day.

Dean kicked back in his recliner with his apple dumpling and moaned at its flaky goodness. It was the next best thing next to pie.

***  
Castiel left the shop and congratulated himself on not drooling on Dean Winchester. When he’d seen Ami the week before in New York at his shop, the well known artist and reality television star told Castiel that Dean was one of the better artists in the Kansas area. Castiel wanted Ami to do his wings, but the other man was booked solid.

He found it humorous that Dean assumed he was an accountant coming for his first tattoo. Gabriel said Dean was a nice guy and kept a clean shop. His brother failed to mention the man could have been a model. Not that he would ever let on to Gabriel he found Dean attractive. Gabriel would use the information to make Castiel’s life a living hell.

Letting himself into his condo, he tossed his keys on the table by the door and hung up his coat. It was early yet and he did have to grade some of the essays from his American Romanticism course, but instead he felt like baking. Gabriel wasn’t the only one in the family that loved to create desserts. In fact, the apple dumplings Gabriel carried in his shop were Castiel’s own creation.

An hour later, Castiel pulled the black cherry tarts out of the oven. He ate one for his dessert and boxed the rest up for his brother. Then he settled down at his dining room table and began to read the essays. He was marking up a mediocre paper on Dickinson when his cell rang. “Hello, Alastair.”

“Castiel, you were supposed to call me this weekend. I’m beginning to think you don’t want to see me again.”

“I was busy with a deadline. I believe I told you that when you called on Thursday.” Castiel didn’t want to see the man again. He’d met him at a club and they’d gone out for drinks. Alastair was charismatic and intelligent. Alastair invited Castiel back to his home and things escalated much too quickly for Castiel’s taste. The man’s kisses were punishing and he didn’t like to take no for an answer. Castiel left his house with bite marks and bruises. Castiel didn’t mind rough sex on occasion, but Alastair’s version was almost sadistic.

“All work and no play makes Castiel a very boring boy.”

“Alastair, I don’t think…”

“You enjoyed my lovemaking, Castiel. I want you. I can’t stop thinking about you. Surely you can take a break.”

Castiel sighed. He hated confrontation. Castiel may have achieved an orgasm, but enjoyed was not the word he would have used. “Alastair, I do not think we have enough chemistry to continue seeing each other.”

There was silence on the line and Castiel thought for a moment Alastair hung up. Then his voice, cold and angry, said, “I’m sorry you feel that way. You will come to your senses and I might find it in my heart to take you back. Just don’t wait too long.” The line went dead. Castiel carefully laid his phone on the table. That would teach him to pick up a stranger in a bar. He knew better.

He stared at the words from the essay, but his thoughts turned to Dean. Was it his imagination that Dean reacted to his touch on his arm as he traced the outline of the phoenix with his fingertip? Probably.

The next morning, Castiel packed the tarts into his car and drove to his brother’s shop. He glanced over at the tattoo shop. It was dark and the neon sign was off. Why would it be open at seven in the morning anyway? Gabriel grinned at him. “What did you bring me today?”

“Black cherry tarts.”

“Yum.” Gabriel took the box and opened it. He inhaled the aroma and sighed. “You are almost as good as me, Baby Bro.”

Castiel watched Gabriel put the tarts in the case and helped himself to a coffee. He added cream and sugar and then put the cap on his travel mug. “I’m off.”

“Have a good day, Teach.” Castiel was almost to the door when his brother said, “So, Dean’s doing your tat?”

“Yes.”

“Well, do you think he’s hot?”

“I didn’t notice his looks, Gabriel. We discussed my tattoo. That’s all.”

“Liar.” Gabriel was still laughing when the door swung shut behind him.

The English Department was quiet when Castiel arrived. A few other professors walked the halls, but students were not in the building this early. Castiel went to his office and sat at his desk. His first class was at 8:45. That have him almost an hour to write. The eighth book in the Angel Blade series was due to be submitted in six months. All he had was an outline. Maybe his ideas had dried up. The homoerotic series about angels on earth fighting beside humans had crossed over from gay paranormal romance to mainstream about four years ago. Most of his fans were now women. He wasn’t complaining, but he was still perplexed by it.

His protagonist in this book was Cael, a flaxen haired angel who falls in love with a human soldier. Castiel stared at the screen. Backspace…backspace…backspace. Cael was now a brunette with ginger highlights in his hair. He had green eyes and his wings were a dark ginger color. Even though the soldier was dark haired with blue eyes, it was not based on himself…not at all.

The words flowed through his fingertips and he was at two thousand words when his TA knocked on his door. “Professor Novak, your class is waiting.”

“What?” Castiel looked down at his screen. It was 8:48. “Thank you, Kevin.”

He quickly saved his work and closed it before grabbing his materials and rushing from the room.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is a little bit of Dean/Benny in this chapter. Don't worry, it will resolve itself quickly. And I won't make Benny the bad guy...just a little selfish...maybe.

Dean unlocked the shop at 8:45. They didn’t open until nine, but he turned on the lights and ran through his appointment book. Charlie came in five minutes later. 

“Morning, Boss.” She started calling him boss about a week ago after they had a fight. He’d reamed her about coming in late and now she treated him like an employer instead of a friend. It irked him, but he figured she’d get over it. 

Ash strolled in right after her and sank onto the couch. “Fell asleep on a pool table down at Bumpers last night and now, my back is killing me.”

“Suck it up, man. You’ve got a full book today.” Dean shook his head. Ash loved to party. Dean had to slow his ass down a few years ago. Drinking all night and working all day were fine when he was in his twenties, now, at thirty-eight, he couldn’t do it anymore.

“I’m going to Sweet Java. Anyone need anything?”

“Caramel Frappe with whipped cream,” Charlie called out from her station.

“Your ‘boss’ doesn’t run errands for his underlings,” Dean teased.

“Asshat.”

Dean strode over to the coffee shop and waited in line. Since this place opened, Dean was here just about every day. He’d put on some pounds and his stomach had developed a layer of…nope, not using that word. He wasn’t fat, his belly was just not as flat as it used to be. He definitely needed to start exercising. 

“Dean-o, how’s it hanging?”

“To the left and to my knees.”

Gabe laughed loudly and the other customers turned to stare. “You crack me up. What can I get you this morning?”

“My usual and a caramel frappe with whipped cream.”

“Got something new. Black cherry tarts…like mini cherry pies.”

“Pies? Give me one of them.” Dean’s mouth formed a small ‘o’ when he saw Gabe pick up the little pie and put it in a box. “Make it two.”

Gabe grinned and added another to the box. He poured Dean a coffee. “That’ll be $8.85.”

Dean gave him a ten and waited for his change. He looked around the crowded tables and when he spied Anna, he spun back around. Not before she noticed him though. She waved him over to her table. He’d gone out with the owner of the small bookstore twice…just twice. She was like a leech for weeks afterwards. She called and texted…she would drop by the shop and hang out…she somehow found his address and showed up at his house. He let her know…very gently…that they weren’t a thing. She’d eased off, but she still sent him little jokes or on occasion, a risqué picture. Sleeping with her wasn’t his best idea.

“Hi, Dean. I have a new shipment of books. You should stop by.”

“Yeah…I’ll do that.” Dean liked to give the locals his business, but he couldn’t make himself go into Anna’s store…not until she found someone new to stalk.

“How have you been?” She patted the chair opposite her and he shook his head.

“I’m good. Just in a hurry. Client coming in…you know.” Dean gave her a parody of a smile and backed out the door. Between Anna and the newest bartender at Hell’s Bells, Dean was thinking about becoming celibate. The young bartender…young being the operative word…told Dean he loved him after the first night. Now, every time Dean went in there, he got these pitiful looks from the boy. Sam gave him hell for that one. Twenty-two was way too young for him. He had a rocking body though.

Dean put Charlie’s beverage on the counter and sat down to eat his breakfast. He bit into the tart and moaned. This was even better than the apple thingies. 

“Is that the way you sound when you come?” Charlie asked innocently. Dean pursed his lips. She was always giving him a hard time for enjoying food. 

“Depends who I’m fucking,” Dean answered with a smirk.

Ash laughed and they all got into their usual bantering when the bell announced a customer. It was Charlie’s first and from then on, the shop was busy.

Dean finally got a break around six. He pulled out his sketchpad and began working the lines of Cas’ wings. Charlie came up and looked over his shoulder. “Nice. Full back and arms. Going to take a few sessions.”

“Yeah, I told him four or five.”

“When’s he coming in?”

“Sundays.”

She moved around to face him. “Sundays? Since when do you to private sittings?”

“Since he doubled my fee.”

“Holy shit, Batman. Is he someone famous?”

“I’m not sure. He’s teaches at UK, but he writes books too. And get this, he really knows Ami and he’s the one who recommended me to him.”

“Great, now you are going to get all cocky and act like a prima donna.”

“Right, that’s me. A regular prima donna.”

Charlie and Ash finished their last appointments of the day and left around seven. Dean stayed to finish the design. He hoped Cas liked it. If he did, Dean could start work on it this coming Sunday.

He was putting the sketch away when there was a knock on the door. Dean looked up and smiled automatically. He unlocked the door and Benny sauntered in.

“Hey, Brother. Haven’t seen you in a week, man. Want to do something tonight?”

Dean knew Benny’s idea of doing something was a quick fuck or blowjob. They’d been friends since high school and through a very embarrassing accident, Benny found out Dean was bi. Since then, they’d been friends with benefits. Lately though, Benny was more into the benefits part than the friends part. 

“Can’t tonight. I have a thing.” That sounded lame even to Dean’s ears. He saw the look that crossed Benny’s face and knew that Benny knew he was lying.

“Yeah, right.” Benny turned to go, his posture tense with repressed anger.

“Seriously…I promised Sam I’d help him with…” Dean’s mind went blank. He was so fucked.

“Whatever…” Benny yanked open the door and the bell tinkled making his exit more sad than pissed.

“Benny, come on…it’s just…” Just what? Just that he wanted his friend back. The one that liked to drink beer and watch movies with him. The one that he could talk about his problems with. The one that was there when the pressures of raising his brother alone got to him.

“What Dean?” Benny stood halfway out the door.

“Come back in here. Lock the door.” Dean wasn’t feeling it, but Benny was his friend and he couldn’t lose him. Benny locked the door and followed Dean back to the storage area in the back of the shop. His hand cupped Dean’s crotch and he started rubbing it. Dean dropped quickly to his knees and unzipped Benny’s jeans. 

“Yeah, Dean, use that pretty mouth on me. I love the way you suck cock.” Dean tuned him out. He wanted to get this over with. He was quick and dirty. Within minutes, Benny came down Dean’s throat. Dean faked a smile and stood up. When Benny reached for his zipper to return the favor, Dean shook his head. 

“I’m okay. Maybe you can come over this weekend to watch a movie and have a few beers.”

“Sure…let me see what I’ve got going on.”  
Dean locked the door behind Benny and gathered his sketchbook and his backpack. He looked around the shop one last time and shut off the lights. He locked up and headed down the alley. He thought about going into Hell’s Bells, but didn’t want to see the young bartender and deal with the fawning looks. Why couldn’t he meet a normal person? A person he could fall for? Someone like Cas? 

***

Castiel got through two of his classes before he thought of Dean again. He was eating lunch at his desk and talking to Kevin about next semester’s syllabus. His mind wandered while Kevin was discussing Beowulf. He imagined Dean’s steady hand marking his skin…

“It’s a critical survey of poetry and prose.”

“Huh? Oh, yes, you are correct,” Castiel pulled himself back into reality. Kevin was looking at him quizzically. 

“You okay?”

“Yes. I’m just a bit distracted.” Castiel finished the last bite of his sandwich and tossed the wrapper in his trashcan. “Now, if we add Beowulf to the reading list for the Classical Studies course, we can remove The Odyssey. I’m bored with Homer.”

Kevin laughed. “How can you be bored with Homer?”

“I’ve taught him every semester since I started teaching.”

“But you’ve taught Beowulf too.”

“Not nearly as much.” Castiel looked at his monitor. “Well, I guess that’s it then.” He saved the document and stood up for his next class.

“I will see you tomorrow, Professor.”

“Thanks for your help today, Kevin.” Castiel gathered his materials and strode down the hall to his lecture hall. 

Later that evening, Castiel sat at his dining room table, pecking away on his laptop. The new book was flowing. He couldn’t believe how far he’d gotten in just one day. He was on Chapter Two and the angel, Cael, saved the soldier from a land mine in the deserts of Iraq. There was an instant attraction and Castiel used over a thousand words to describe their first kiss. 

As he was stripping off his clothes to get ready for bed, he paused to look in the mirror. Dean used the word sexy to describe him. He didn’t see it. Other people did. His agent said he was photogenic and the pictures on the back of his books were the cause of thousands of fan letters…or so they said. His publicist took care of that aspect of his career. Garth took care of answering letters, his Facebook account, his Twitter account and his website. He lived in New York and was in the same building as his agent, making it convenient when Castiel had to fly to the city five or six times a year.

He looked at his ink. Each one told a story. Soon, his acceptance of who he was would be on his back. His hands moved up his chest to the tree of life, palms brushing against his sensitive nipples. Arousal made his skin redden under the harsh lights of the bathroom. His cock hardened and he let a hand drop to caress it, like a lover might do. He ran his thumb over the slit and used the evidence of his arousal to slicken his length. Watching his image intently, he stroked his shaft…faster…harder. His breath became ragged as he got closer to the edge. It was Dean’s face he saw when the sharp pinch to his nipple brought him over the abyss. He sat on the side of the tub and collected himself. Once he breathing became normal and his knees weren’t shaky anymore, he stood and cleaned up the mess on the counter. 

Castiel slept well. He dreamed of a phoenix rising out of ashes holding an old fashioned pistol.

***  
Dean couldn’t wait to get to Sweet Java. He had to have another of those tarts. They were freakin’ orgasmic. Gabe was at the counter waiting on a handful of college kids. Dean waited patiently for his turn. As he got closer, he could see the display case. He didn’t see the tarts. Gabe had the apple dumpling things, but no tarts…

“Where are the tarts?” Dean snarled.

“And good morning to you too, Dean-o,” Gabe replied with a sickening sweet smile.

“Sorry…morning. Now, where are the tarts?”

“I guess Castiel didn’t feel like baking last night. I do have your favorite apple dumplings though.”

“Wait. Castiel…Cas baked them? What the fuck can’t the man do? Fuckin’ professor…writer…baker…”

“Porn star,” Gabe added with a grin.

“Seriously?” Dean’s eyes lit up and his voice sounded shrill. Visions of that man…

“Just kidding.” The man giggled and Dean wanted to wrap his hands around his throat and squeeze until his eyes bugged out. His face must have shown his evil fantasy because Gabe took a step back. “Dude, calm down.”

Dean took a deep breath and placed his palms flat on the counter. “I will have my usual then.”

“If it helps, the apple dumplings are Castiel’s recipe. Don’t worry, I’ll get the recipe for the tarts too.”

The man could bake. Pies. Little bitty pies that tasted like heaven. Heaven in a tiny crust. Life was not fair. Someone was going to have Cas for a husband one day…baking Cas…writing Cas…teaching Cas…Cas in bed…laying on stark white sheets…his tan body laid out like a freakin’ buffet…

“Dean!” Gabe’s shout made him jump.

“What?” 

“$4.85. Where did you drift off to, man? You were out in la-la land.”

“Just thinking about…a client.”

Dean balanced the box, his cup of coffee and his sketchbook while he unlocked the door and turned on the lights. He sat his breakfast on the counter and tossed his sketchbook on the drafting table behind it. He shrugged out of his backpack and stashed it by his station. He had five appointments today. 

Charlie came in. “Morning. Are you going to Crowley’s private party on Thursday?”

“I was invited, but not sure if I’m going though.” Crowley was having a ten year anniversary party at Hell’s Bells. He was shutting the doors to the public and only friends were sent invitations. Dean couldn’t believe it had been ten years since the bar opened. Dean frequented the bar long before he opened Purgatory Ink. In fact, it had been Crowley that helped him get the location in the alley. It was also Crowley that helped Dean with the name of the shop. “Purgatory is right next door to hell.” Dean remembered Crowley saying. Dean’s shop was right next door to Hell’s Bells. It made sense at the time. Of course, Dean was drunk at the time so anything would have made sense. 

“Crowley will be disappointed if you don’t go.” Charlie checked the appointment book and then prepped her station for her first client. Dean should be doing that too. He crammed the last of the dumpling in his mouth and washed it down with his coffee.

Dean’s first client was a new father. He wanted his newborn’s footprint on his shoulder with the kid’s name and date of birth. Dean always thought it was cool when parents celebrated their child’s birth with a tattoo. He would bet his mother would have done something like that, his father…not so much. John Winchester died of a heart attack eight years back. Dean didn’t mourn him. The very first time Dean dated another boy, he was persona non grata to his father. Sam became the favorite son…the only son. Not that John was around enough to even know who Sam really was. Dean was the one who raised him, fed him, pushed him to go to college.

The next two days sped by. He was booked solid and more often than not, got home late into the evening. He was not looking forward to Crowley’s party, but knew he needed to be there to support his friend. Charlie and Ash skated out early to go home and change. Dean was going in what he had on. 

He was locking up when he saw Gabe doing the same. “You’re leaving early.” The coffee shop usually stayed open until nine. 

“Going to Crowley’s.”

“Yeah, me too.” Dean slowed his pace so Gabe could walk with him. “I’m dead tired, man. I’m just going to make an appearance and skip out early.”

“I know the feeling. My assistant manager didn’t show today, so I’ve been working since five this morning.”

“Damn. Why are you even going to this thing then?” Dean noted the shadows under Gabe’s eyes. 

“It’s Thursday. My brother and I go out to dinner on Thursdays. Instead of dinner, I’m making him go to this with me. He’s got to get out more.”

Dean’s brain zeroed in on the word brother. “So, this the brother that makes the tarts?”

“Castiel. Yeah.” Gabe gave Dean a speculative look, but Dean managed to look uninterested. Inside, Dean’s stomach was doing flips. Cas was going to be here tonight. Suddenly, he wasn’t so tired anymore.

Normally, Crowley’s place was pulsing with live music, mostly local talent looking to break into the business. Some were good, most were not. Tonight, the stage was bare and soft music played over the PA system. The houselights were up and there was a large buffet set up. Quite a few people were already walking around with a drink in their hands. Dean recognized most of the faces. 

“Squirrel.” Dean turned at his shouted nickname. Crowley was coming towards him, smiling broadly. “Glad you could make it.” The older man hugged Dean and kissed his cheek. “Get a drink, eat and mingle.”

“Thanks for the invite. And hey, congratulations. Ten years…long time…”

“Thanks, Dean. We got a good thing going in the alley.” Crowley was referring to the five businesses that called the place home. Business was good and everyone was thriving. 

Dean made his way to the bar and got a drink. He took a sip and headed to see what was on the buffet table. The entire time, he kept an eye on Gabe. He wondered when Cas was going to show up.

***  
It was already seven. Castiel wished he hadn’t agreed to this party. Thursdays, he and Gabe had a standing date to have dinner together. Last week, Gabriel informed him that in lieu of dinner, they were attending this anniversary event at the bar in the alley. Castiel never stepped foot inside the place. If he went out, it was to a small, intimate martini bar on the other side of town. Of course, that’s where he met Alastair. He wouldn’t be going back there anytime soon.

Instead of his normal attire, Castiel wore jeans and a white oxford shirt. He felt naked without his tie. He parked his BMW and got out. The shop windows were dark, even his brother’s place. Everyone must be at the party.

Outside the door, he was stopped by a bouncer that was the size of a Sherman tank. “You have an invitation?”

“My brother owns Sweet Java and was supposed to leave my name. Castiel Novak.”

The man looked at his clipboard. “Gabe’s brother, right?”

“Yes.”

“Go on in. Gabe’s already here.”

“Thank you.” Castiel entered. He took in the bar, the dance floor, the stage…his eyes searching for his brother. His eyes widened. Dean was standing next to the buffet, talking to a woman with vivid red hair. Gabriel had conveniently let it slip that Dean was bi, but as he watched, the redhead slipped her arm through Dean’s. He looked down at her and laughed at something she said. There was genuine affection in his gaze. Lucky woman. 

He looked away and saw Gabriel sitting on a bar stool surrounded by three beautiful women. How his brother managed to attract women was a mystery to Castiel. He was loveable but very annoying. Castiel tapped his brother on his shoulder and four pairs of eyes looked at him. 

“Cassie…girls, this is my baby brother, Castiel. And this is Jeannie, Renee and Gina.”

The girls looked at him in a predatory way and his smile faltered. “Girls, you better stick with me. My brother only likes dick.”

“You have the social graces of a cow, Gabriel,” Castiel murmured just as the bartender came up. “I will have a gin and tonic please.”

The girls wandered off, leaving Gabriel and Castiel alone at the end of the bar. “Dean’s here,” Gabriel said conversationally. 

“Yes. He and his date are by the buffet.” Castiel took a sip of his drink, avoiding eye contact with his brother. He mustn’t show any interest in Dean whatsoever.

“Date?” Gabriel craned his neck to see over the crowd. He laughed. “You talking about the smoking redhead?”

“I believe she did have red hair.”

“That’s not his date. That’s Charlie. She works for Dean. The only way she’d be interested in Dean is if he had a vagina.”

“Oh, well, then…my mistake.” Castiel felt relieved. He didn’t understand why. Just like he didn’t understand the wave of jealousy he felt when he saw Dean and the redhead together. 

“Come on, let me introduce you to a few people.” Castiel spent the next thirty minutes being dragged around by his brother. He would not remember half the names of the guests. “Crowley, nice party. This is my baby brother, Castiel. Castiel, this is Fergus Crowley…everybody just calls him Crowley. Only his dear old mama calls him Fergus.”

“A pleasure to meet you. Congratulations on your anniversary.” Crowley’s handshake was firm and was longer than normal. 

“Gabe didn’t tell me his brother was so gorgeous,” Crowley purred. “I’m glad you came. Can I get you another drink?”

Crowley was a handsome devil, Castiel thought. He was obviously flirting with him. “I would love another drink.”  
Crowley placed his hand at Castiel’s lower back and guided him back to the bar. Within minutes, Castiel was seated on a stool, drink in hand, while Crowley regaled him with funny stories. The man was funny and very much a gentleman. A gentleman with roaming hands. Currently, one of the man’s hands was on his thigh, while the other rested on the back of Castiel’s stool. 

“Who does someone have to know to get a drink around here?” Dean’s voice was loud next to Castiel.

“Rocky, Darling, all you have to do is ask.” Crowley snapped his fingers and a whiskey was pushed across the bar toward Dean. 

“Cas, looks like you made a friend.” Dean’s eyes lingered on Crowley’s hand on his leg. “You better watch this guy, he’ll have your pants off before the night is over, but he won’t remember your name in the morning. Isn’t that right, Crowley?”

“Dean…you might want to lay off the booze.” 

Dean smirked and shot back his whiskey. He motioned for the bartender for another. “Nah, I’m fine. I’m awesome.”

Castiel watched in stunned silence as Dean walked…or stumbled off. “Does Dean drink like that…often?”

Crowley was still watching his friend push through the crowd. “Dean? No, not at all. He was a wild one for a few years…but these days, he’s…” Crowley let the sentence fade. He looked back at Castiel. “How do you know Dean?”

“He will be doing my new tattoo in a few days.”

Crowley bit his lower lip and removed his hand. He backed out of Castiel’s personal space. “Dean’s a friend of mine and I don’t want to step on his toes.”

“What do you mean?” Castiel sat down his drink and tilted his head to stare at the other man. 

Crowley smiled. “I’ve got to go tend to my other guests. Mingle. Have a good time.” Just like that, he was gone. Castiel was confused. He liked Crowley and he thought the bar owner liked him. Castiel picked up his drink and made his way over to the buffet. Dean was leaning against the wall and he looked like he was arguing with…Crowley. 

***  
Dean stared across the bar at Crowley…his friend…with his hand on Cas’ thigh. Cas wasn’t pushing it away either. He took another shot from the waitress. And another a few minutes later when he saw Cas throw back his head laughing. Dean didn’t drink much anymore, so by the fourth shot, he had a healthy buzz going. He needed another drink. 

He went up to the bar and stood just behind Cas. He couldn’t believe his friend told him to lay off the booze right in front of Cas. Like he was a pathetic drunk or something. He was just joking around. Crowley could remember names…he’d definitely remember someone like Cas. Cas with his college degree…

The shot burned all the way down and he hissed as he sat the glass on the closest table. He should eat something else. He was really feeling the alcohol now. 

“What the hell is wrong with you, Dean?” Crowley was in his face and pushing him against a wall in the back of the bar, away from prying eyes and ears.

“What? Nothing’s wrong with me. Just having a good time at your party…ain’t that the idea? You seem to be having a great time with Cas…”

“I’m not going home with him, Dean.”

“What? Why not?”

“Because I don’t poach on other people’s territory…especially my friends.”

Dean was confused. His head was spinning now. He shouldn’t have had that last shot. “Don’t get it…”

“You are such an imbecile, Dean. If you like him, let him know. Jesus Christ, I feel like Dr. Phil. I’m willing to bet you a substantial amount of money that he likes you as well.”

“Cas? Cas doesn’t…no, man…he’s got a college education. He’s smart…”

“Dean, isn’t it about time you retired that poor pitiful me attitude? You’re a business owner and a talented artist…”

“Just lucky, Crowley…not smart.”

“Listen to me, you little shit. You’ve got it all. Talent, looks and despite how you are currently acting, brains…”

“Fuck you, Crowley.” Friends didn’t call each other names…Dean’s brain picked up that part of Crowley’s comment, but the other stuff didn’t register. 

“Is there a problem?” Dean squinted and groaned. Cas was standing there witnessing the whole thing. Crowley turned to Cas and shook his head.

“No problem. My friend has had an unusual amount of alcohol tonight and I’m getting ready to call his brother to come get him. He just needs to sleep it off and he’ll be fine tomorrow. Won’t you, Dean?”

“Don’t call Sammy. I’ll get a cab.” Dean pulled out his phone and tried to focus on the screen.

“I believe I can take him home,” Cas turned back to Dean. “Are you ready to go?”

“Don’t need…”

“Perhaps you should just shut up and come with me,” Cas said coolly. Dean looked at Crowley and Crowley shrugged.

“I’d go with the guy, Squirrel.”

Cas gripped his bicep in one of his hands and steered him towards the door. Thankfully, they avoided seeing any of Dean’s close friends. “I can walk, ya know.” Dean tried to shrug off Cas’ hand. It only tightened.

“Maybe you can, but I don’t want to take the chance of you falling on that beautiful face of yours.”

Beautiful? Cas thought he was… He was shoved unceremoniously in the passenger seat of a red BMW. “Nice wheels,” Dean said to the sound of the door slamming shut. Cas sure was acting pissy. What was his deal?

Cas opened his door and slid behind the wheel. “Where do you live?”

“Just off Madison.”

Cas nodded and started the ignition. Once he was out of the parking lot, he turned to Dean. “Why does Crowley call you Squirrel?”

Dean chuckled softly. “Old joke. Sam…my brother…is a freakin’ Sasquatch. Yay tall.” Dean held up his hand over his head about four inches. “Crowley calls him moose. Moose and squirrel…Rocky and Bullwinkle…get it?”

“No, not really.” Cas turned his attention back to the road.

“Didn’t you watch cartoons? Rocky and Bullwinkle were this squirrel and moose and they had these two enemies…Boris and Natasha…it was great.”

“I shall have to take your word for that.” Cas turned onto Madison. 

“Next left.” Cas took the next turn. “Two story on the right.”

Cas pulled into the driveway and shut off the engine. “You have a nice house.”

“Did you expect me to live in a trailer park or something?” Dean asked sarcastically.

“Crowley got one thing right. You are a little shit.”

Dean fumbled for the door handle and almost fell out on his ass. So much for a dignified exit. He knew better than drink five…six…however many drinks. “Fuck.”

“Get some sleep, Dean.”

Dean pulled his keys out of his pocket and stood up next to the car. “Thanks for the ride…I can call in a favor…get someone else to do your tat, man.”

“You are going to do my wings, Dean. I will see you on Sunday.”

Dean watched the taillights disappear around the corner. God, he was in so much trouble.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was hard. I actually had it completed last night and then "ripped it up". I wasn't sure where I wanted it to go. I needed to get Alastair out of the picture. While he was a bad decision on Cas' part, I didn't want him to affect the storyline. Benny...let's talk about Benny for a second. Benny was a jerk to Dean, but because of Dean's self-deprecating nature, he took it. So, who was at fault? Hopefully, this chapter explains things from both their points of view. Dean was afraid to lose a friend because we all know his has a strong sense of loyalty. Benny has problems of his own.

Castiel had wanted to throttle Dean. The self-deprecating…little shit. After Crowley had walked away, Castiel put two and two together. Crowley thought Dean liked him and backed off because he was Dean’s friend. Did Dean really like him though? Castiel didn’t want to put the time and effort into something with Dean if the man wasn’t…on board. Castiel was getting too old for one night stands. Alastair proved that. From now on Castiel was looking for a boyfriend. Okay, boyfriend sounded juvenile…relationship was the word he was searching for. Castiel was looking for a relationship.

He guessed he would find out how Dean felt one way or another. 

The next morning, he got to work and started right in on Chapter Three. The angel, Cael, watched the soldier from afar…wanting him. Meanwhile, the soldier was coming to grips with finding out that he found the angel, in a man’s vessel, attractive. He looked down at his screen, noting the time. Class would be starting in five minutes. Castiel saved his work and made his way to his lecture hall. Fridays were his easy days. He had one morning class, office hours until two and then he was done for the day. 

He walked out to his car and stopped in his tracks. Alastair was leaning against his fender. His chin rose a fraction and he continued on.

“Good afternoon, Alastair.”

“Hello, Castiel.” The man straightened. “You look different in your professor garb.”

Castiel wasn’t sure where this was going. He looked around casually. The parking area for the faculty was mostly empty since it was Friday. Alastair must have noticed him weighing his options because the man raked his fingers through his hair. “Castiel, I’m not some nut job. I’m not crazy enough to try to force you into a car and…Jesus…look, I just thought we connected…sexually…and I hoped we could see each other again.”

Castiel relaxed and leaned on his car, his messenger back held in front of him. “Alastair, I’m just not…” He couldn’t insult the man’s sexual techniques. It was rude and was a blow to any man’s ego. “I’m looking for a relationship, not an occasional roll in the hay.”

“Well, we could explore that. See where it goes…”

“I’ve met someone and really want to see how it goes with him.” It wasn’t an outright lie. He did meet Dean and he would like to see where it went…if it went anywhere at all.

“Oh. Okay.” Alastair backed up a step. “I hope it goes well for you…keep my number…just in case.”

“I will.” Castiel lied blatantly. He watched the man walk to his pickup. Castiel got into his own car and sighed. He really did hate confrontation. He really hoped that was the last he’d see of the man.

Castiel once again sat at his dining room table. His fingers weren’t moving on the keyboard though. Instead he was staring off into space. It was a Friday night. He was alone in his condo. He didn’t even have a pet…God, he didn’t even own a plant. 

He had a life. He traveled to New York occasionally and was invited to parties. The faculty of the university held parties and he was invited to those as well. Up until two weeks ago, Fridays were spent at the martini bar a few blocks away from his home. Now, he went to work and came home to write. Unless you counted last night. To quote his students, last night was a cluster fuck. 

Gabriel called him a hermit. He wasn’t though. He had friends…okay, he had acquaintances. He had only one friend, unless he counted his brother. Meg was his friend. She was also his agent. He dialed her number.

“Well, hello, Clarence. To what do I owe this honor?”

“Am I boring?”

Her tinkling laughter could be heard over the thousand or so miles that separated them. “Boring? You? Castiel, you are well liked in all the social circles. Stuffy, maybe….boring, no.”

“Stuffy? I’m stuffy?” Castiel’s voice sound shrill to his own ears.

“You have the whole professor of literature thing down to a science. What’s really wrong, Darling?”

“I met someone.”

“Tell me,” Meg shrieked.

Castiel held the phone away from his ear and winced. He slowly brought it back. “His name is Dean. He’s a tattoo artist. He’s handsome and owns his own shop. Ami recommended him and he’s…”

“Is he good in the sack?”

“God, Meg, I just met the man. We haven’t even…I’m not sure if he’s really interested.”

“So, make him interested. Seduce the man. Show off that gorgeous body of yours and you’ll have him eating out of your hand.” Castiel closed his eyes and groaned inwardly. Meg knew what his naked body looked like and she never failed to bring it up in conversation. He always stayed with her when he was in New York. The last time he was there, he was in the shower and she breezed into the room, sat on the toilet and proceeded to talk to him about book sales while he was standing behind the clear glass shower walls. He remembered their discussion about privacy while he stood there with shampoo dripping from his hair. She said because he was gay, being naked in front of her shouldn’t matter to him. She stated it so logically that Castiel didn’t have the will to argue.

“Why did I call you for advice?” Castiel asked dryly.

“I have no earthly idea. Like I’m the queen of relationships…so, how’s the new book coming. Got a synopsis yet?”

“I’ve got the synopsis done and am currently on Chapter Four.”

“See, this is why you are my favorite author.”

Their conversation lasted another twenty minutes before Meg got another call. “Seriously, Clarence, seduce the man. Kisses.”

***  
Dean bounced a kernel of popcorn off Charlie’s head. She responded by hitting him with a pillow. His new eighty-five inch plasma TV was currently playing Iron Man 3. Sam and Jess were snuggled on the couch, Dean was in his recliner, Charlie was sitting on the floor leaning against the recliner and Ash and his current squeeze were on the loveseat. Bowls of snacks sat on every available surface. Friday nights were movie nights. Benny used to come over on Fridays, but he started playing in dart tournaments or at least that was his usual excuse.

He’d felt like shit when his alarm went off that morning, but there was no way he could be late. It was all he could do to keep his hand from shaking during his first appointment. He thanked God, it was a simple Maori design on a woman’s ankle. He downed three cups of Gabe’s special blend and after that, he was okay. He still felt like shit, but at least he could concentrate.

He couldn’t remember the last time he tied one on like that. Unfortunately, he hadn’t drank enough that he didn’t recall what he fool he made of himself. Not just to Cas, but Crowley too. He owed his friend an apology for being an ass at his party. He was really surprised that Cas was still going to come in on Sunday. At least Charlie or Ash didn’t mention him leaving the party early and not under his own steam.

The credits rolled and everyone got up to help him clean up the food and beer bottles. Sam and Jess were the last to leave. “Dean, Jess and I…we have some news…”

“Yeah?” Dean was putting the DVD back into its case and didn’t look up.

“Yeah, it’s kind of important.” Dean’s head jerked up. Jess was holding tight to Sam’s hand and smiling at him. “We…uhm…are going to have a baby.”

Dean sank down to the edge of the coffee table. “A baby?”

“Yes, Uncle Dean,” Jess said softly.

“A baby?” Dean repeated. He stood up and grabbed his sister-in-law and twirled her around. “A baby! We’re having a baby!”

He’d wondered why Jess was drinking apple juice instead of beer, but the thought it was because she may have a shift at the hospital later that night. He couldn’t keep up with her rotating schedule. He turned to Sam and wrapped him in a fierce hug. “I love you, Sammy,” he whispered for Sam’s ears only.

“Love you back, Dean.” Sam’s eyes were damp when he pulled away. 

“When did you find out? When’s it due? Is it a boy or girl? Are you feeling okay?”

Jess laughed at his excitement. “We found out yesterday. My due date is August 20th. We won’t find out the sex for another month or two. And I’m fine except for the morning sickness.”

By the time Dean got to bed, he was in a happy place. He was going to be an uncle. He reached over to the books he’d laid on his nightstand earlier. He’d forced Charlie to go to Anna’s bookstore and see if they had any of Cas’ books. She came back with The Guardian and Book Three of the Angle Blade series. It was the later that he started to read.

Saturday morning it was overcast and rainy. Dean’s plans on waxing the Impala were nixed. He did his grocery shopping and came home. Laundry sucked, but it needed to be done. He’d sent a text to Benny to see if he wanted to come over for a steak and maybe watch a movie. His friend hadn’t replied.

He left the two steaks in the fridge to marinate, just in case, and got on his laptop. He checked his Facebook page. Nothing new or interesting there. Charlie handled the shop’s page. Dean’s page was private, just friends and family were allowed to view it. The Google search bar was dead center on the screen and he typed in Castiel Novak. 

“Damn,” Dean muttered. The guy sure had a big internet footprint. He clicked on his author page. The photo gallery showed pictures of him with Stephen King, Ami James, the mayor of New York…shit…the guy knew everyone. Apparently, The Guardian was a New York Times bestseller. After cyber stalking the man’s author page, he went to the UK faculty page. 

“Professor Novak teaches several courses in both American and World Literature…” Dean read aloud in a snooty voice. Cas’ picture showed him in a suit and tie sitting at a cluttered desk.

Dean closed that out and scanned the page. Cas had a Facebook page, a Twitter account and there were several other links. His Facebook page was a public page. There were several pictures of Cas at book signings. He read through a few of the comments and clicked the ‘like’ icon. 

He was getting ready to put one of the steaks in the freezer when his phone chirped. It was Benny. Dean was torn. He sent the text three hours ago. 

TEXT FROM BENNY/5:35 – Dinner still on?  
TEXT FROM YOU/5:39 – Sure.  
TEXT FROM BENNY/5:40 – See you in ten.

Dean put two potatoes in the oven. Both men were meat and potatoes guys. They didn’t need a salad to round out the meal. He had a frozen blueberry pie in the freezer. It was in the oven when Benny rang the bell.

“I come bearing gifts,” Benny said, holding up a six pack of Dean’s favorite beer. For the next hour, Dean was happy. Benny acted like the Benny he used to know. They stood around the grill and talked smack about football. They ate with gusto and drank the beer Benny brought and a few bottles that Dean had in the fridge. After dinner, Dean stood at his bookcase looking at DVD titles and then he felt Benny’s hands on his waist…felt his crotch rubbing against his ass.

“Benny, stop,” Dean froze where he was, hands holding tightly to The Mummy DVD case.

“You don’t want me to stop, Sugar.” Benny’s deep voice whispered in his ear.

Dean spun around and pushed Benny away. “Yes, I do.”

Benny raised his hand in mock surrender. “What’s with you, Dean?”

“I just don’t want to be your fuck buddy anymore.” Dean met his friend’s eyes. “I want us to go back to being just friends.”

Benny stared at him, mouth set in a firm line. “Friends? We are friends, Brother. We can be both. The friends with benefits thing has worked out, hasn’t it?”

“It did…for a while…but now…lately…the only time we get together is to have sex. Whatever happened to grabbing a couple of beers after work…or watching a game?”

“You sound like a fuckin’ girl, Dean.” Benny grabbed his jacket and started to put one arm in.

“So, that’s it. You’re leaving. I said no to sex and you’re just going to walk out?”

“I don’t need this, Dean. I’m getting enough of this at…”

Benny stopped midsentence and rushed towards the door. Dean beat him to it and pushed against his friend’s chest. “Finish the sentence, Benny.”

“I’m leaving.” Benny tried to go around Dean and Dean shook his head.

“Not until you tell me what’s going on with you.”

Benny hung his head and put his hands in the pockets of his jacket. “I…I did something stupid, Dean…and I don’t know how to….how to…”

Dean took Benny’s hand and led him to the couch. “Sit.”

Benny sat and Dean sat on the coffee table facing him. “Talk.”

Benny looked down at his clasped hands. “Remember Andrea?”

Dean searched his brain. “Yeah, dark hair, pretty…you guys dated last year…a couple of weeks, right?”

“Yeah. She got pregnant.”

“Oh.” Dean didn’t know what else to say. 

“I married her, Dean.”

Dean stood up, shocked. “You married her! What the fuck, Benny? Why didn’t you tell me? What happened to our fuckin’ friendship?” Dean’s eyes went to Benny’s ring finger and saw the telltale sign of white skin where a ring usually rested.

Benny rubbed his hands over his face. “I thought you’d try and talk me out of it. So, we flew to Vegas. I have a son.”

Dean shook his head. “I don’t fuckin’ believe you. Married with a kid and you’re still wanting us to… I don’t even know who you are anymore.”

“It was stupid. I’m so…so…I can’t even stand to be around her anymore. She’s sleeping with her boss.”

“This is like a bad soap opera. Why don’t you just divorce her?” 

“She’s Catholic…very devote. She doesn’t want her family to think less of her. They’re old money…from Baton Rouge.”

“So, let me see if I got this straight. You met a girl, knocked her up and married her because it was the right fuckin' thing to do…now, she’s fucking around, you’re fucking around…with me. And what about the kid?”

“His name is Niko. He’s beautiful, Dean.”

“Niko?”

“She is Greek. If I leave her…I’ll never see him again. Her parents will make sure of that.”

“Why couldn’t you come to me with any of this, Benny? We used to talk about everything. I told you shit about my father…”

Benny stood up, his posture rigid. “Because you finally got your life together…the shop… I just didn’t want to lay my fucked up problems on you. I was a fool.”

“That’s just fuckin’ great, man. You don’t want to share your problems with me but you still want to fuck me. That’s not what friends do.”

“I just wanted to feel something…I’m so God damn sick of my life. I work…and then…then I go home to a fancy house…that her parents bought us because my house wasn’t good enough. She won’t even share a bed with me but makes me act like we’re a fuckin’ happy family.”

Dean wanted to feel sorry for him. Instead, he felt used. “Go talk to Sam. He’s not a divorce lawyer, but he can probably hook you up with someone. She can’t keep the kid from you, Benny. I’ve got some money stashed away…if you need it.”

“But, she’ll…”

“You only have two choices. Stay married and be miserable or get out. Either way, we’re done.”

“Dean, you can’t mean that. We’re friends…”

“We were friends, Benny. Friends don’t treat…” Dean inhaled sharply. “When you came by the shop the other night… I said no, Benny. I fuckin’ said no. But you got angry and I did it anyway. I gave you head anyway because I didn’t want to lose you as a friend. That’s pretty fucked up even for me. I will never let myself feel like that again.”

Benny looked like someone had slapped him. His eyes welled up and he took a step back. “I’m sorry, Dean. So sorry. Please forgive me. I’ll do anything. I just want my friend back. Please.”

Dean looked away. “Give me some time, Benny. I need time and look, go talk to Sam.”

Dean stood with his back to the door long after Benny left. He’d forgive Benny. Maybe one day they could be friends again, but he couldn’t let himself be caught up in his drama. Benny needed to get his life together before they could patch things up. Did it make him selfish for not being there for his friend now? If Benny would have just come to him… Marriage was a fuckin’ big deal. You didn’t just fuck around on someone. Dean was a lot of things, but he’d never cheated on anyone. 

***

Castiel spent his Saturday running errands. He picked up his dry cleaning, did his grocery shopping and got his oil changed. Once he was back home, he sat down to write. When he finally took a break, he was shocked to see that it was dark outside. It had been a long time since he got so lost in one of his stories. 

He slept fitfully. He would be seeing Dean in just a few hours. Should he follow Meg’s advice? Meg said he was stuffy. It hurt. He knew he didn’t have the social skills that his brother had, but stuffy was harsh. He could be fun. As he sat drinking his coffee, he began to doodle on a pad of paper. He wrote the word fun in large block letters. 

Number one…okay, so discussing Victorian literature wasn’t high on most people’s list of fun things. He could play the piano. He played Chopin at Meg’s last party. People clapped. Did that constitute as fun?

Castiel propped his chin on his hands and came to the realization that he was boring…and stuffy. How could someone as amazing as Dean….? 

He dressed in loose fitting jeans and a polo shirt. He laced up his running shoes and headed to Dean’s shop. The neon sign was not lit, but the lights in the shop were on. He tried to open the door and found it locked. He knocked. Dean appeared out of the back and unlocked the door. The man was dressed in low slung jeans and a black Rolling Stones t-shirt. He wasn’t smiling.

“Hello, Dean.”

“Cas.” They stood in the doorway, staring intently at each other. Castiel didn’t think he’d ever seen eyes the same shade as Dean’s. That’s how he imagined Cael’s eyes. 

“About Thursday….”

“Yes?”

“I was a jerk. I’m not used to drinking that much anymore. I guess I made a douche out of myself.”

“Is that an apology?”

Dean huffed and his lips turned up at the corners. “Yeah, Cas, that was an apology. Crowley’s a great guy, I hope I didn’t mess things up there.”

“I accept you apology, Dean. However, I am not interested in Crowley. He was nice and very amusing, but not my type.”

“Wow, okay…uhm…let’s…I guess you want to see the design, huh?”

“That would be a good start.” Castiel lifted an eyebrow when Dean still didn’t move from the doorway.

“Yeah.” Dean moved back a few steps allowing Castiel to enter the shop. Dean locked the door behind him. “I’ve got it over here.” Dean led the way to the drawing board behind the counter and unrolled a drawing.

“Dean, this is magnificent.” And it was. Castiel was amazed at the man’s talent. Each feather was drawn in such detail that it almost looked like a black and white photograph. 

“So, you like it then?” Dean looked pleased.

“Very much.” Knowing how tattoo shops worked. Castiel pulled out his wallet and handed Dean his credit card. He waited while Dean wrote up an invoice with an estimate of hours. 

“You can pay half now and we’ll work out the rest when we get to the last session.” Castiel knew the majority of shops wanted the full amount up front.

“I can pay the full amount, Dean. If it goes over, you will have my card on file…”

“Whatever.” Dean took the credit card and ran in through the machine. Castiel had his pen poised to sign his name but noted the amount of three thousand dollars. “That’s for four sessions at four hours each. We can adjust that if you need to draw it out longer. When I’m working around your spine and down around your elbows, it’s going to hurt like a motherfucker. We can add another session or two if you need to…”

“This invoice is not the proper amount. It should be four thousand.”

“I gave you the ‘Dean was an embarrassing drunk’ discount.” Dean’s grin reached his eyes and they seemed to sparkle.

“I guess you will be getting a great tip then.” Castiel smiled and signed his name with a flourish. “Should we get started?”

Castiel pulled the hem of his shirt from his waistband and pulled it over his head. “Where do you want me?”

“Uhm…I guess we can start on the table.” Castiel moved to the padded table and lay down on his stomach. He heard Dean moving around and getting ready and he tried to relax. Normally, he felt no apprehension at all when he got tattooed, but because it was Dean, he felt a hum of electricity coursing through his veins.

“Alright, I got printed out the transfer. I guess you know the drill.” Castiel felt the cold gel on his back. Dean’s gloved hands began to rub over his left side. Dean had a gentle touch and Castiel closed his eyes. He heard the rustle of the transfer paper and felt it being laid on his back. It took a few minutes for Dean to get the transfer done. “Okay, get up and go look in the mirror.”

Castiel did as he was directed. Dean handed him a hand mirror and what he saw in the large wall mirror made him smile. “Perfect.”

“Let’s do this then.”

Castiel got back into position and once again, he felt Dean’s hand on his back. He heard the hum of the tattoo machine start up. “Ready?”

“Yes.” Castiel felt the initial pain from the needles and then the steady hum eased him into a sort of numbness. 

“What is your type?” Dean asked after the first twenty minutes of steady work. Other than Dean asking if he was okay, that was the first time either had spoke during that time.

Castiel knew what Dean was referring to, so he didn’t hesitate. “I’m not sure. I know what I don’t want in a partner, but I don’t think I’ve figured out what I do want yet. Obviously, someone who is loyal and honest. I’ve recently been told I was stuffy, so maybe someone who could show me what fun is.”

Castiel’s answer seemed to satisfy Dean because he continued to work along Castiel’s spine. It did hurt now, but Castiel took deep breaths and clinched his jaw. 

“Why Carpe Diem?”

“I got it the same day I got my PhD. I felt like I could take on the world. The Oscar Wilde quote…I got that one after I sold my first book. It took a lot of heat from some of the religious groups… I believe in God, I’m just not religious. I’d like to think everyone who has a good soul is going to heaven, even the sinners.”

“That’s a pretty cool way of looking at things. I believe the same, I guess. Sometimes I’m not sure God exists, other times…” Castiel could almost see Dean shrugging his shoulders.

“The koi on my side represents my determination to reach my goals.”

“And have you?”

“I think so. All but one anyway.”

“And what’s that?” Dean asked, pausing the needles to wipe away the blood and ink.

“Finding a person to go through life with.”

Dean was silent for a long time. The hum continued. The needles worked the ink into his skin. He was calm, almost euphoric.

“Finding that perfect person isn’t always easy,” Dean finally said.

“I’m not looking for perfection, Dean. I’m looking for someone to love and who could love me back. I don’t care if he’s flawed.”

Another comfortable silence settled over them. Castiel thought he even dozed off for a few minutes. “It’s been two hours. I need a break to stretch. You want some water or something?”

“Water would be good.” Castiel rolled off the table and stood. He watched Dean stretching his arms above his head and rolling his neck. 

“We keep a little fridge behind the counter.” Castiel followed Dean up to the front of the shop. Dean reached in, got two bottles of water and passed Castiel one of them. 

“Why wings?” Dean leaned against the counter. 

Castiel met his eyes. “Freedom to be who I am. Not who my parents wanted me to be. Not who society dictates I am.”

“You’re an enigma, Cas.”

“How so?” Castiel cocked his head.

“You’re super smart and wear suits, but underneath the suit…you’re beautiful and inked up. It’s like you don’t fit in any mold. You teach literature, but you write hot sex… And let’s not forget your baking skills.”

Castiel smiled. “How do you know I write hot sex?”

“I’m reading one of your books.”

Castiel felt his skin heat under Dean’s gaze. “Oh.” The thought of Dean reading his erotic stories made his skin tingle. “Maybe we can discuss it over coffee later.”

“I’d like that, Cas.” Castiel noticed Dean’s skin was just as flushed as his own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, I've never had a tattoo, so any mistakes are mine. YouTube and Miami Ink are a wealth of knowledge, but personal experience is much better, I suppose.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Do Cas and Dean have a 'thing'? Was it a date?

The next two hours, they talked about books, world views, disastrous dates and their families. Dean found out Cas’ father was a minister and they’d sent Cas to one of those “pray the gay away” camps the summer of his senior year. Cas said that was his turning point as far as organized religion went. Once Dean got past the educated way Cas talked, he enjoyed listening to the man. He had a dry sense of humor and Dean found himself really looking forward to their coffee date. He looked out the window while he put on the protective ointment. Nope, he didn’t want to go to Sweet Java. Gabe would be butting in and Dean wanted their date to be a little more private.

“So, Cas, do you mind if we go somewhere besides Sweet Java?”

“Thank God. I was hoping you wouldn’t want to go there. My brother would annoy the hell out of us.”

Dean laughed. “We could go to Starbucks…or…” For an instant, Dean entertained the thought of asking Cas to his place, but he changed his mind. This was a date, not some random hookup.

“Or?”

“Nothing. Starbucks is good unless you can think of something better.”

“Starbucks is fine.”

“Hey, I meant to tell you…those cherry tarts were freakin’ awesome. I was pissed when Gabe didn’t have them the next day.”

Cas beamed at him over his shoulder. “Really, you liked them. I have a few more at the house…would you…like to come to my place to have coffee?”

“Sure.” Dean finished putting the bandage on Cas’ back and helped him with his shirt. Cas waited while Dean cleaned up and put his tools in the autoclave. He turned out the lights and locked the door behind them. Cas gave him the address, but Cas’ red car was easy to keep up with in the slow Sunday traffic. It turned out that Cas had a condo downtown, not far from the shop.

Cas unlocked the door and ushered Dean inside. Dean looked around. While the condo was nice, it didn’t really looked lived in. The couch had throw pillows…matching throw pillows. The dining room table had a flower arrangement in the center of it. There weren’t any family pictures…just art on the walls.

Dean followed Cas into the kitchen and was relieved to see that the kitchen looked used. There was a stack of mixing bowls on the counter, a towel tossed next to the sink and a dirty coffee cup sat on the small island. “I have a Keurig. You can pick your flavor.” Cas opened a cabinet and Dean saw boxes of the coffee pods stacked on top of each other.

“I like plain coffee,” Dean said, watching Cas pour water into the fancy coffee machine. His coffeemaker was eight years old and stained from daily use. Cas’ was spotless.

“I have a confession to make. I like plain coffee too.” 

“Then why do you have that.” Dean pointed to the offensive, high-priced coffee maker.

“Gabriel gave it to me for Christmas. He’s also the one who buys this crap.” Cas held up a box of Southern Pecan flavored coffee and Dean grimaced.

“There should be a law.”

Cas laughed and suddenly it seemed like all the air was sucked out of the room. Cas’ laughter died and both men seemed to hold their breath. Dean licked his lips and he saw Cas’ gaze drop down to his lips to watch.

“Cas…maybe I should…go.”

“Why?”

“Because right now…all I can think about is kissing you.”

“And you think I would be opposed?” Cas asked.

“I was afraid to take that chance.”

Cas sat the box of coffee on the counter and crossed his arms. Dean saw his slight wince as the skin was pulled taut across his back. “Dean, I’ve wanted to kiss you since the first time I saw you. The more I get to know you, the stronger the urge is, but I’m not interested in a one night stand. I’m looking for a permanent relationship.”

“What if…what if we got to know each other a little better and see where this thing goes?”

“You admit there’s a ‘thing’ here?” 

“Maybe,” Dean hedged.

Cas chuckled. “I’m definitely attracted to you.”

Dean grinned. “So, I’m your type?”

“Yes, Dean, I think you are just my type.”

“Should I go? Because if I stay, I’m going to kiss you.”

“Stay. You haven’t had dessert yet.” Cas lifted an eyebrow comically.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but if that’s a euphemism for sex…I don’t think it would be a good idea…yet.”

“It wasn’t, but I’ll remember it for future use.” Cas turned around and opened the fridge. He pulled out a plastic container and lifted the lid. Inside were three of the dark cherry tarts. Dean groaned.

He watched as Cas set two of the tarts onto small plates. Then Cas made two cups of coffee. He added sugar and a splash of cream to his. He gave Dean a questioning look.

“One sugar.” Cas fixed Dean’s and set them on the counter next to the plates. He handed Dean a fork and Dean didn’t wait for an invitation, he stabbed a large piece and shoved it in his mouth. “Oh…God…”

***

Castiel froze with his fork halfway to his mouth. His face flushed to an embarrassing shade of red. Dean’s moan of pleasure was pornographic. He wanted nothing more than to see Dean naked in his bed…lost in the throes of passion. 

Dean was so engrossed in eating the tart that he didn’t notice Castiel’s blush. Castiel bent his head and ate what was on his fork. He tried desperately to quell his filthy thoughts of Dean screaming out as he orgasmed. 

“Where did you learn to bake like this? You are a God.”

“I don’t think I’d go that far.” Castiel chuckled. “I loved spending time with Gabriel when I was younger and he taught me to cook. I enjoyed it and I began to experiment. My brother says I have a gift. I think it is just dumb luck.”

“Nope, I have to agree with Gabe. You have a gift. And if you ever tell Gabe I agreed with him about anything, I’ll have to kill you.”

“My lips are sealed.”

After they ate, Castiel put their dishes in the dishwasher and packed the last tart in a smaller plastic container. He was sending that home with Dean. They sat in the living room and watched the lights of Lawrence come alive through the huge window. They talked about anything and everything. Castiel hadn’t felt this comfortable around someone in a long time. 

“Soooo,” Dean drew out the word for several seconds. “About your books?”

The corner of Castiel’s mouth turned up in a shy, lopsided smile. “What about them?”

“I haven’t started The Guardian yet, but the one I’m reading…Dangerous Mission…has some pretty hot sex in it. How did a prim and proper Professor of Literature get started writing porn?”

“It’s not porn, it’s erotica. Dangerous Mission is the third in the series. Why didn’t you start at the beginning? Technically, they are all standalones but most people do start at the first one.”

“Erotica, huh? Whatever you want to call it, it’s hot as fuck. And I had to start at the third one because the bookstore only had that one. I guess I need to get on Amazon and order the rest.”

“I have a few of the ARCs you could have.”

“What the hell is an ARC?”

“Advanced readers copy. They just don’t have the cover art like the final product. All authors get a few boxes of them to give away to libraries, contests, and so forth.”

"I loved the cover art. Did you get to pick it?”

Castiel laughed. “Not by a long shot. Cover artists are usually employed by the publishing houses. I don’t get a final say so. But I am quite pleased with them.”

“Whoever it was, they did a damn fine job. Where do your ideas come from? I guess since it’s a series, all the main characters are angels?”

Angels and soldiers. I pair them together to fight the wrongs of the world.”

“And have sex,” Dean added with a smirk.

“And fall in love.”

“Once I get the whole set, you’ll have to autograph them for me.” Castiel noticed how Dean changed the subject. 

“I would be happy too.”

Dean stood up and put his hands in his front pockets. “I should go.”

“I’ll walk you out,” Castiel said, standing. They stood awkwardly at the door for a few seconds and then Dean grinned. 

“I feel like I did on my first date.” Castiel loved the slight blush and how it made the smattering of freckles stand out even more. Castiel stepped forward a few inches and Dean raised his hands, only to drop them. He opened his mouth to say something and then closed it again.

Castiel crowded him against the door, chest pressed to Dean’s and his palms flat on the wood behind him. His mouth hovered over Dean’s. He whispered, “Was this our first date?”

Eyes open and staring back at him…Dean whispered, “Yes.” Castiel felt the word against his lips and he closed his eyes.

“I kiss…on…the first…date, Dean.” With each word, Castiel’s lips moved a fraction closer until they touched.

Dean hesitated only a second before pressing his lips into Castiel’s. Castiel read about knees going weak…he’d even wrote about it, but never experienced it for himself. At that instant though, he didn’t think his would support him. 

Their noses bumped and they both let out a huff of laughter before they kissed again. As first kisses go, Castiel thought it was awkward and unsexy, but he knew it would be the one he would remember for all time.

“Bye, Cas.”

“Goodbye, Dean.”

Castiel closed the door. He was still smiling when he remembered he’d forgotten to give Dean his tart. He ran to the kitchen and snatched it off the counter. He flung open his door. Dean was halfway down the hall. “Dean!”

He turned and Castiel jogged towards him. “I…here’s the last tart…for you.”

“Thanks, Cas. You know what they say…” Dean took the container and held it like it was the finest crystal.

Castiel looked at him, head tilted. “About?”

“The way to a man’s heart is through his stomach.” Dean winked.

“Another thing to keep in mind then.”

Dean pushed the elevator button and they didn’t look away from each other until the ping announced the car had arrived. 

Back in his condo, Castiel took a couple of over-the-counter painkillers because his back was hurting a little and then spent the rest of the evening working on his book. At the rate he was going, it would be done well before his deadline.

***

Dean kept his eyes on Cas until the doors of the elevator swished shut. As kisses go, Dean had better. He smiled. Better maybe, but he really enjoyed those silly awkward kisses. He looked down at the plastic container and thought of what he’d said to Cas about the way to a man’s heart. Yes, he was flirting and no, he didn’t care.

His steps were lighter as he walked to his car. He was pulling in his driveway when he realized he didn’t even have Cas’ phone number. It was at the shop in his file, but that meant he had to wait…whoa…he could wait until tomorrow…he could.

When he got into bed that night, he picked up Dangerous Mission and started to read. The angel guy was a badass and apparently when they had sex with you, it was fucking awesome. It was after midnight before Dean put the book down and turned out the light. He lay in the darkness and a fantasy began to take shape in his mind. 

Cas was an angel of the Lord, black robes and massive black wings. He was a warrior. Dean was a marine. Dean figured he’d look damn good in BDUs. It would be hot in the desert and Dean would be sweaty…he’d have his shirt off…dog tags glinting in the sun. Cas would appear with a rustle of feathers and Dean would turn around to see him, sun making his wings look almost blue. Cas, being the badass that he was, would shove Dean against the wall…tank…pyramid…no he wasn’t in Egypt for crying out loud…wall. Cas would shove him against the wall and kiss him until Dean was a whimpering…no…Dean didn’t whimper. Cas would kiss him hard and deep…tongues battling for…maybe he’d write a book. This was easy…

As the fantasy progressed, Dean’s cock hardened and he slowly stroked his length. In the dark, with his eyes closed, he could picture Cas above him. His fingers buried in Cas’ unruly hair. Cas saying his name in that deep, smoky voice of his. Would Cas talk all proper when he was pounding into him? Or would he talk dirty…whispering filthy words to Dean as they fucked. 

Dean’s hand moved faster up and down his shaft. He was breathing hard now. He remembered tasting cherries on Cas’ breath…sweet cherries…

As usual, Dean was the first to get to the shop. After putting his things down, he opened the small file cabinet and pulled Cas’ file. He quickly added Cas’ number to his phone and was just putting the file back when Ash walked in.

“I want you to be the first to know that I’m giving up alcohol.”

“Right. Like I’d believe that,” Dean scoffed. He started setting up his station for his first appointment.

“I’m serious this time.”

“Sure you are. And what brought this on? Wake up with another species? In another state? Married?”

“Funny, Dean. If you must know, I woke up in my car.”

“You’ve woken up in worse places.” Dean smirked and got out the design for the pirate ship he was doing for a returning client. He knew the guy was going to love it.

“I’ve never had this happen.” 

Dean turned around. “What?” He watched Ash lift his shirt and written in permanent marker across his belly were the words, ‘You are a fucing ashhole’. Dean read it again. “A fucing ashhole? Damn, who did you piss off, a first grader?”

“Fuck you, Dean. I don’t even remember what I did that would make someone think I’m an asshole. No more partying for me.” Ash pulled down his shirt and started getting his own station ready.

“Good morning, Bitches,” Charlie called out as she entered the shop, stopping Dean from teasing Ash anymore. And so the day started. Dean’s client did love the design and Dean got the entire outline done. He’d come back later for the colored shading.

After lunch, Dean had an interview with a body piercer. When he first opened the shop, he had a part time employee that handled all the shop’s piercing requests, but she moved to Florida and Dean just had the time to replace her. 

She was a very attractive brunette with full sleeves on both arms. “You must be Ruby. I’m Dean Winchester.” They shook hands and since Dean didn’t have an office, they did the interview sitting on stools behind the counter.

Dean noted her nose, ears and eyebrow were pierced. “Do you have your own equipment?”

“Yes. I have everything I need. As long as I can use your autoclave.”

“That’s not a problem. I’ll add your name to all our signs and next time I advertise, I’ll include body piercing. We have a couple of people a day that want something done, but so far I’ve had to turn them away. Once word gets out that you’re on staff, you’ll stay pretty busy.”

Dean asked some more questions and went over how he paid his employees. Ruby said she could start on Wednesday. Dean was glad to have her on board. For all his ink, Dean only had one piercing. He had his tongue done when he was younger, but he let it heal up after a week when he chipped his tooth on it.

He introduced Ruby to Ash and Charlie and showed her where her station was. He also showed her the room in the back for those who wanted tattoos or piercing in private places. As she stood in the doorway, she asked, “Okay, I gotta ask, where is the strangest place you’ve every put a tat?”

Dean laughed. “I put a snake on a guy’s dick once.”

“Shit, bet that hurt like a motherfucker.”

“He spent the first ten minutes screaming and the rest of the time crying like a baby. I offered to stop after the first few seconds, but he insisted I keep going.”

She giggled, shaking her head as they compared stories of the strange things people wanted. He walked her to the door and watched her walk away. 

“You like her, Dean?” Ash asked from behind him.

“Yeah, she’s going to fit in around here.”

“No, I mean…do you like like her? She’s hot.”

“No, not like that. And you better not say or do anything that will make me kick your ass. New rule in the shop…” he said it loud enough for Charlie to hear him. “…no dating between co-workers. I don’t need that kind of drama.”

“Aye aye, Captain,” Charlie called out. Strangely enough, Dean hadn’t felt an attraction to her. She was his type, he supposed. Slim, brunette, busty, but this thing with Cas was new and he really did want to see where it went.

Around two, Dean decided to take his lunch. He left the shop and walked the half block to the small deli he often frequented. Instead of taking it back to the shop and since he had another thirty minutes before his next appointment, Dean took his lunch to the small city park. He sat down on a bench and pulled out his phone and sent a text.

TEXT FROM YOU/2:12 – How does the back feel today?  
TEXT FROM CAS/2:13 – Who is this?  
TEXT FROM YOU/2:14 – Sorry. It’s Dean.  
TEXT FROM CAS/2:15 – Hello, Dean. Walking into my afternoon class. Perhaps I could call you later?”

Perhaps? Perhaps he could call him later. Dean grinned. He loved the way this guy talked or in this case, texted. 

TEXT FROM YOU/2:16 – Sure.

Dean put his phone back in his pocket and took a bite of his sandwich. He was dating a teacher. No, he was dating a professor. A professor of literature. A novelist. They were dating, weren’t they? Not that they were going steady or some shit like that, but dating was a good word. They had a thing. Dean didn’t want to think too much about the ‘thing’. It was definitely mutual attraction and a desire to get to know each other better. That was all it was…a thing…a dating thing…a dating thing that might lead to a sleeping together thing…


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Being a 'thing' can get scary.

He did call Dean. They only got to talk for fifteen minutes because Dean’s next appointment arrived. Castiel finished his office hours and left for the day. He was headed home, but decided a trip to Sweet Java wouldn’t be a bad idea. The fact that it was across the alley from Dean’s shop didn’t have any bearing on the decision.

“What are you doing here?” Gabriel asked from his post at the coffee urns.

“Can’t I come visit my brother’s establishment when I feel like a good cup of coffee?”

“You never come at night.”

“It isn’t night, it’s late afternoon.”

Gabriel laughed. “Semantics. You never come here this time of day. Could this have something to do with the extremely hot Dean Winchester?”

“I think I will have a splash of the Amaretto syrup in my coffee,” Castiel said, changing the subject.

Gabriel’s smirk told Castiel his brother may let the topic of Dean go this time, but he wouldn’t forget to bring it up again. Castiel took his coffee and sat at a small table next to the window. For the natural light, not because he could see the front entrance of Purgatory Ink. He took out his laptop and began to grade papers. He could do it just as well here.

At quarter to five, Charlie, the redhead he saw with Dean at the party, walked across the alley and into Sweet Java. She got her coffee from Gabriel. After talking to his brother for a few minutes, she left, but not before her gaze found his. She stared and then offered a mischievous smile. He wondered what that was all about.

No sooner had he opened the next essay on his laptop than Dean entered the shop. “Cas! Charlie said you were here. I thought I’d come over and say hey.”

Castiel smiled up at Dean and then frowned. “Charlie and I have never been introduced. How did she know I was…” Castiel looked at the counter, where his meddling brother was whistling and cleaning the glass on the display case. “Never mind, I answered my own question.

Dean sat down. He picked up Castiel’s coffee and took a sip. He made a terrible face and looked at Castiel. His expression could only be described as betrayed. Castiel laughed at him. “That…” Dean pointed at the cup, “…that is a travesty.”

Castiel shook his head. “Occasionally, I like to splurge. It serves you right for helping yourself to my coffee.”

“That’s not coffee…not sure what it is, but it ain’t coffee.” Dean yelled out across the shop, “Hey, Gabe, could you make me a cup of real coffee.”

“Coming right up, Dean-o.”

“Are you working on your book?”

“Unfortunately, no. I am grading essays.”

“What was the subject?”

“I challenged my class to write a descriptive essay on vampires.”

Dean snorted. “Vampires? Vampires aren’t real.”

“Of course not. But Vampires have been in literature sense the early eighteenth century. This was an exercise in writing. With all the movies and current pop culture regarding vampires, I thought this was an exercise that would keep my students interested.”

Dean pursed his lips and nodded. “I get it. Do me a favor, if you have a student that writes about vampires being sparkly, fail them.”

“Sparkly?”

“You know, like that damn Twilight series. Charlie and I bought the first one, so we could read the same book and talk about it. It hurt my head. The author was a good storyteller, but her writing was…bad. And don’t even get me started about the movies.”

“I must have missed those books.”

“Good. Because that was a few hours of my life I’ll never get back.” 

Castiel noticed Dean was just wearing a t-shirt. He must have left his coat at Purgatory Ink in his hurry to…get coffee? Or was it just to see him. Castiel chose to believe the later and it gave him a warm feeling. The t-shirt showed off his phoenix sleeve, but on his other arm, Castiel could make out the bottom of another tattoo. He was curious, but Gabriel’s coffee shop was not the place to tell Dean to take off all his clothes and let him see all his ink. Other than the phoenix, Castiel hadn’t even discussed Dean’s ink with him. He wondered how many he had.

“I would like to see you again, Dean.”

Dean’s mouth tilted up on the right side. “You would? Like not wait until Sunday?”

“Yes, just like not waiting until Sunday.”

“I get off at seven.”

“Dinner?”

“Dinner’s good.”

“I’ll just wait here then.” 

Dean stood up. “Gotta get back to the shop for my next appointment. Can’t run late because I have a hot date with a sexy professor.”

“Should I be jealous of this professor?”

Dean’s face turned serious. “Cas, you don’t have anything to be jealous of. If we’re going to see where this thing goes, I’m not going to be seeing anyone else.”

“I will not be seeing anyone else either.”

Dean’s smile was soft, but it met his eyes and he leaned down to give Castiel a chaste kiss on the lips. “See you at seven.”

Castiel watched Dean sprint across the alley and enter the shop. He could see him standing at the counter and their eyes met again. A young woman walked down the alley and opened the door and Dean broke their gaze to greet her. Castiel watched them talk a few minutes and then he touched her wrist. They moved towards the back of the shop and Castiel couldn’t see them anymore. 

“You have it bad for the boy.” Gabriel’s voice pulled him back from his thoughts of Dean.

“We are seeing each other.”

“I picked up on that. I also picked up on the fact that you’re head over heels.”

“I don’t know him well enough to be ‘head over heels’.” Castiel used the air quotes and that caused Gabriel to roll his eyes.

“You keep telling yourself that, Lil Bromeister.”

Castiel went back to his laptop. He caught movement out of the corner of his eye and saw Crowley pushing open the door. The bar owner greeted Gabriel and waited on his coffee. His eyes scanned the shop and settled on Castiel. He cocked his head and winked at Castiel before accepting his cup. As he made his way towards Castiel, he smiled. “Hello, Castiel.”

“Hello, Crowley. Would you like to sit down?”

“Don’t mind if I do.” Crowley sat across from him and sat his coffee on the table. “I haven’t talked to Dean since my party. I’m assuming you got him home okay.”

“Yes.”

“I haven’t seen him that drunk in a long time.”

“He apologized for his behavior.”

“I’m glad. You could do a lot worse than Dean. He’s honest and loyal…sometimes to a fault, and once he thinks of you as a part of his family, he would protect you with his life if it ever came to that.”

“You are loyal to him as well.” 

“I am. I don’t want to see him hurt.”

“Is that a warning?”

Crowley leaned back in his chair and smiled. “Just making conversation.”

“I don’t wish to hurt him.”

“You took him home, so you saw his house.” Castiel nodded. “When it came on the market, I tried to talk him out of it. It was a big house for just one person. I tried to talk him into a condo in the downtown area…one of the hip neighborhoods. I thought it would fit him better. He bought it for sentimental reasons, but he told me that he wanted a family one day. Dean is looking for permanence…someone who could make his dreams a reality.”

“I’m not biologically able to give him a family. Are you saying he wants to find a woman to fall in love with?”

“Not at all. I’m just letting you know what Dean wants. Adoption, surrogates…two men could have a family. I just want you to think about it before things go further.”

“Thank you for your advice.”

“You and Dean need to come to the bar soon…have a few drinks…”

“We may do that.” Castiel remained pensive long after Crowley left. Dean’s friend alluded to that fact that Dean is looking to settle down with someone, have children. Castiel wanted the same thing…mostly. Castiel never thought of having children. His parents were not loving and nurturing. Would that be genetic? He didn’t want to bring a child into this world if he couldn’t love it.

***  
When Charlie came back from her afternoon coffee run, she was bursting with excitement. “Dean, your man is at Gabe’s. You didn’t tell me he looked like…like…sex on a stick. I would cast him as the next doctor…I can picture him…trenchcoat flapping in the wind as he is chased by Cybermen…”

Dean got caught up in Charlie’s fantasy world for a time until his mind registered she’d said Cas was at Gabe’s. “Cas is at Gabe’s…now?”

He looked at the clock. He had eighteen minutes until his next appointment. He had time to go say hello. When he got back, he was grinning. He had a date. 

The young woman introduced herself as Lexi. Dean was observant and the first thing he noticed was the self-cutting marks on her pale arms. This girl wasn’t one of the ‘pretty people’, not that she wasn’t pretty. Dean thought she was beautiful, but she wasn’t the type of girl who had it easy like most of the college girls that came into the shop. 

“Lexi. Pretty name for a pretty girl. What can I do for you today?”

“I want a semicolon…here.” She pointed to her wrist. Dean saw a larger scar there and he took her hand in his. He traced his fingertip across the unblemished skin next to it. 

“Here?”

She nodded. Dean was well aware of the Semicolon Project. He was invited as a guest to one of the local events at the university. He offered to do the tattoos for $10 each. That day, he’d done twenty-four. It was just his way of giving back. The two hundred and forty dollars he collected…no one knew that he donated back to the project. No one needed to know.

“I charge ten bucks. Is that okay?” Dean didn’t even use ten dollars worth of supplies on a tattoo like this, but he didn’t want to give them away. Pride was a special thing to have. Paying their way was a matter of pride. 

“I expected it to be higher than that.”

“Not for something like this.” She handed him a debit card and he ran it through. “Come on back and let’s get started.” It didn’t take him long to do the simple tattoo. He spoke softly, asking her questions about her interests and the classes she was taking. Her voice was airy and shy, but once she felt Dean was really interested in what she had to say, she let a smile slip. That smile made Dean’s day.

Dean hugged her goodbye and told her to stop by the shop anytime. After she left, Dean looked through the window. Cas was still there. Crowley was sitting across from him. He felt a surge of jealousy and then he calmed down. Cas told him Crowley wasn’t his type and Crowley may be a lot of things, but he wouldn’t poach on a guy Dean was interested in. 

Dean cleaned up his station and looked over at Ash, who was working on an eagle for a soldier out of Fort Riley, the army base an hour and a half away. Charlie was doing a portrait of a woman’s dog on her shoulder. Charlie was the best portrait artist he knew next to Kat Von D. Charlie is the one who did the work on his back. 

“Hey, guys, I’m cutting out early. Will you lock it up?”

Both of the artists looked at him like he’d grown another head. “You’re leaving…early?” Charlie asked, shooting Ash a conspiratorial look. “It must be love.”

“Shut up,” Dean growled and snatched up his backpack. He pushed open the door to Gabe’s shop and went directly to Cas’ table. 

Cas looked up, smiling. “You’re early.”

“Yeah, I finished up early and decided to take the rest of the night off.” He waited for Cas to stow his laptop in his briefcase and together they stood. “Uhm…where do you want to eat?”

“Somewhere quiet.”

“We can stop by the store and pick up a few things, then I could fix you dinner.”

“Are you sure it wouldn’t be a bother?”

“Positive. I love to cook. Since you’re good at it, I’ll even let you be my sous chef.”

“I would be honored.” They walked to their cars. Cas’ was just across the lot from the Impala. 

“You remember the way?”

“Yes.”

“There’s a Hy-Vee just before you turn onto Madison. We can stop there.”

“I will see you there then.” Dean got behind the wheel and started the car. He’d planned on stopping at the store that night anyway because he needed groceries. He found his list on the seat beside him. He hoped Cas didn’t mind. On the way, Dean thought about what to make for dinner. Something that would show off his skills. 

Cas met him at the door and Dean got a cart. Dean was one of those people who started on one side of the grocery store and went up and down each aisle. They were on the aisle with the soft drinks when Cas first pointed it out.

“Do you need anything on this aisle?”

“Don’t think so. I just bought a bunch of Coke at Sam’s last week.”

“You didn’t need anything on the last aisle either.”

“Nope.” Dean scanned the shelves and turned the corner. He picked up two cans of tomato sauce from the end-cap because it was buy one get one free. Halfway down the aisle, Dean stopped to look at the cereal. He tossed in a box of granola for those mornings Sam stops by on his way into the office. He was holding a box of Fruity Pebbles in one hand and Fruit Loops in the other. Decision time.

“Dean, those cereals are full of additives and sugar.”

Dean turned slowly and gave Cas a mock glare. “We have to break up now.”

Cas looked shocked and Dean kept up his act. “I just don’t need this kind of negativity in my life, man.”

“I…I…”

Dean burst out laughing, causing other shoppers to turn and stare. “I was just joking. But seriously, do not mock my cereal choices and I promise not to mock your choice in clothes.”

Cas looked down at himself, then back up at Dean, head tilted to the left. “What is wrong with my choice of clothes?”

“Your clothes scream accountant…does the university make you wear suits and ties?”

“No, some professors wear jeans, but I find my students…”

“Your students would relate better if you dressed in jeans.”

Cas lips pooched out in a pout and Dean was struck by how adorable he was. Dean let him mope until he rounded the corner into frozen foods. Dean got up in his personal space and put his hands firmly on his hips. “I think you are pretty damn hot in anything you wear.” Then Dean kissed him…right there next to the ice cream section.

When they got to Dean’s house, the first thing he did was get the prep work done for dinner while he pointed to the various cabinets so Cas could put the rest of the groceries away. Cas made a tsk tsk noise when he opened Dean’s cereal cabinet. “Negativity, Cas…”

“I did not say anything negative about your teeth rotting choice of cereals, Dean. Not a word.”

“Asshat.”

Dean seared the tuna and made a quick rice pilaf. Cas sautéd some kale he’d insisted on buying. They stood at Dean’s stove shoulder to shoulder and Dean realized at that exact moment that he could get used to this. With Cas. With any of his past relationships, he couldn’t picture them living in this house…couldn’t think of them growing old with him. He looked over at Cas and imagined him graying at the temples…his laugh lines deeper… It was crazy. They hadn’t even known each other two weeks yet. It had been lust at first sight, but…love…it couldn’t be. All he knew was that whatever this was terrified him.

***

Castiel sat across from Dean at his dining room table. The food was wonderful. The whole evening had been a study in domesticity. Grocery shopping together…working side by side in the kitchen…now, sitting across from each other discussing mundane topics like vegetable gardens and bumblebees. Castiel didn’t think he could ever tire of this. It scared him. It wasn’t love…not yet. Love was something that came with time. 

Castiel yawned while helping Dean load the dishwasher. “Excuse me.”

“What time do you get up in the mornings?”

“I get up at five-thirty on weekdays.”

“Son of a bitch…why?” Dean looked horrified.

“I have to be at the university by seven-thirty. I hate to rush and I like to have time to stop by Gabriel’s for a coffee. What time do you get up?

“Eight-thirty. And that’s still too early. I’m thinking about changing the shops hours to ten to eight. Ash can’t get there on time most days anyway.” Castiel couldn’t help but think it wouldn’t leave them much time to get to know each other. “You don’t have to stay and help with the kitchen. I know you must be tired.” 

“Do you want me to go?” Castiel wanted to take back the words as soon as they left his mouth. Did it make him sound too needy?

“No. I’d like you to stay.”

“I can stay a little while longer.” From Dean’s look, he was sure Dean was asking him to stay the night, but he wasn’t ready for that yet. 

An hour later, Castiel found himself on Dean’s couch with Dean’s head in his lap, watching a movie about a young man going back in time in a DeLorean automobile. The premise was odd, but the movie was enjoyable because he was watching it with Dean. Absently, he combed his fingers through Dean’s closely cropped hair. 

“If you could go back in time, where would you go?”

“I’ve never given it much thought. I suppose I would like to go back and meet authors like Conan Doyle, Longfellow, Tennyson…what about you?”

Dean sat up, causing Castiel’s hand to fall in his lap. Dean leaned back on the couch and put his feet up on the coffee table. His hand went to his upper bicep, the one with the tattoo that Castiel couldn’t quite see. “I’d go back to before my mother was killed. I’d make her leave the house that night.” Dean’s words were so soft, Castiel had to strain to listen.

“How did she die?”

“A fire. Electrical short somewhere upstairs. Dad gave me Sammy to carry out and he went back to get her, but…it was too late.”

“I’m so sorry, Dean. How old were you?”

“Four. Sammy was six months. He never got to know her.”

“May I?” Castiel pointed to Dean’s shirt sleeve. Dean shrugged and pulled the arm of his shirt up to his shoulder. Castiel saw the angel, her wings folded to protect two small children…an infant and an older child…Dean. Above the tattoo in beautiful script was the word ‘Mom’. “It is a beautiful memorial to your mother.”

Dean rolled his sleeve down. “Yeah. She always told me angels were watching over me.”

Castiel put his hand on the back of Dean’s neck and pulled him close. “She must have been a wonderful mother. You were very lucky to have her, even if it was only for a short while.” They stayed that way for a long time…long after the movie ended. Dean curled into Castiel’s side, arms holding each other. Each deep in their own thoughts.

Castiel must have nodded off because he was startled awake by Dean shaking his shoulder. “Wake up, Sleepyhead.”

“What time is it?” Castiel asked, still half asleep.

“It’s after eleven. We both must have dozed off.”

Castiel stood and looked around wildly for his keys. “I need to go.”

“Cas, calm down. Sleep here.” At Castiel’s look, Dean chuckled. “Not with me, I have a guest room. Not that I’d kick you out of bed.”

“I don’t think…”

“I’ll make sure you get up in plenty of time to hit your place for a change of clothes. Come on, I even have a spare toothbrush.”

Castiel made a quick decision. They were both adults. He could handle it. “I can set the alarm on my phone so you won’t have to get up that early.”

“Whatever. Come on.” Dean led the way up the stairs and showed Castiel the guest room and the guest bath. Dean pulled out a new toothbrush and a sample size tube of toothpaste and set it on the counter. “I’ll be right over there if you need anything.” Dean pointed to a doorway just down the hall.

Castiel stood in the middle of the guest room. He normally slept in the nude. It was probably not a good idea to do that in Dean’s house. Not yet anyway. He stripped down to his boxers and walked across the hall to the bathroom to brush his teeth. 

He was on his way back when Dean’s door opened and he froze. “Sorry, I…uhm…forgot to lock the door.” Dean was dressed in a pair of flannel sleep pants. The elastic waist was loose and they were barely staying up on his hips. Castiel was staring at the tattoo on Dean’s chest. His eyes dropped to the one disappearing into his pants.

“What does this one mean?” Castiel stepped forward to touch the ink above Dean’s left nipple. He heard Dean’s quick inhale when his fingertip touched his skin.

“It’s an anti-possession symbol. Sammy and I got these on his eighteenth birthday. It was a private joke between us.”

“And this?” Castiel pointed down to the tattoo that looked to be of sheet music. He read the words ‘Hey Jude’. “The Beatles’ song?”

“My mom sang me to sleep every night. It was her favorite.” Dean was the first to break eye contact. “I should just…go…lock…the door.”

“I will see you in the morning, Dean.” Castiel closed the door and rested his back on it. Castiel wanted nothing more than to put his mouth over each line…every curve… He gave himself a mental shake and turned off the light. Staying out of Dean’s bed wasn’t going to be easy.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Discovering each other's bodies drives the two men closer together.

Dean assumed Cas would be in bed when he remembered he’d forgotten to lock the front door. Sam’s favorite saying was assuming makes an ass out of you and me. He was cool seeing Cas in his boxers. Boxers were like shorts…you could wear shorts in public…right? Okay, Cas had some of the nicest legs he’d seen in a long time. And the ink…damn…on his right calf, he had a compass. On his left, a quill and a quote of some kind. He couldn’t really drop to his knees and read it. Well, he could have, but it might have startled his houseguest.

Then…if seeing the man almost naked in his hallway wasn’t enough…Cas had to go and touch him. How was he going to get any sleep knowing Cas was only a few feet away? He should have got his happy ass up and took the sexy as fuck professor home. 

Cas closed the door to the bedroom and it took Dean a second or two to move from his spot in the hallway.

He locked the door and went into the kitchen. He needed a shot of whiskey, but settled for water. He held the cool glass to his forehead…he felt hot…feverish…

When he got back upstairs, Cas’ door was shut and Dean shut his own door. He normally left it open, after all, he lived alone. The closed door might act like a deterrent just in case Dean went sleepwalking. Not that he ever did it, but you just never know what could happen when you were thinking with the head between your legs instead of the one on your shoulders.

Dean crawled between the sheets and stared at the ceiling for a good five minutes before turning of the light. It was late…he’d already set his alarm to get up at dark thirty so he could get Cas up and out the door on time…he needed to go to sleep…he didn’t need to be thinking about Cas…in bed…just down the hall. He rolled over on his stomach and hissed when he half hard cock rubbed against the fabric of his sleep pants. He moaned in frustration. His hands tightened into fists. If he ignored it, it would go away. His right hand betrayed him and he flipped over on his back again, the traitorous hand already jammed down his pants and stroking along his length. His eyes were tightly shut and his lower lip was held firmly between his teeth. He’d make it quick…no lingering touches while he fantasized…fast and dirty…get it over with…he’d feel better…sleep better….

“Dean?” 

The sound Dean made was more like a teenage girl seeing a spider than a grown man… He hadn’t heard the door open. Cas was standing in the doorway, just a silhouette. 

“Ye…Yeah?” His voice sounded strangled.

Instead of answering, Cas walked towards the bed. Dean knew his eyes were wild…that deer in the headlights look. He prayed Cas couldn’t tell in the darkness. When the man was right there…right fuckin’ next to the bed, he sat…his hip brushing against Dean’s. 

“I know I said I wanted to wait…to get to know you better…before…” Jesus, Mary and Joseph, the man was cupping his erection. He heard Cas’ gasp of surprise and then a soft chuckle. “I hope you were thinking of me.”

It was Cas quiet laughter that eased Dean’s bad case of nerves. “I was trying not to think of you.”

“I was trying not to think of you too. It wasn’t working very well.”

Dean’s hand covered Cas, which was still over his dick. “You could crawl in here with me and we could not think of each other together.”

Cas’ muffled laughter made Dean smile. Cas stood up and walked around to the other side of the bed and eased under the covers. They both lay there stiffly for a few seconds. Dean didn’t know who moved first or maybe they just moved at the same time, but their lips met in a sloppy kiss. They may have even missed each other’s mouth the first time. Dean’s hands found Cas’ waist and he reared back. “You’re not wearing any clothes.”

“I may have lost my boxers in the hallway. My mistake.” 

Dean snorted and pulled Cas close. “You just earned a kiss for that.” Dean’s mouth came down on Cas’ and he added a bit more finesse to this one. 

When they came up for air, Cas’ hand moved to Dean’s left nipple and flicked the gold hoop. “I think this was what stole my willpower. Your ink was beautiful and I wanted nothing more than to touch you, but this…” another flick, harder this time, “…this is what was driving me insane.”

Dean felt the pull of the nipple ring all the way down to his toes. Cas pushed him so he was flat on his back and grabbed the waistband of Dean’s pants. He pulled them down and Dean’s cock sprang free. “Too many clothes.” Cas’ voice was low and thick. Then that beautiful mouth was on him. Cas’ tongue was working the gold hoop and Dean felt his nipples hardening. 

“Cas…feels fuckin’ awesome…” Awesome may have been an understatement. Dean felt like he was going to explode.

Cas paused, his mouth hovering over Dean’s throbbing nipple. “Does it? I’ve often wondered.” Then he was back, teasing, sucking and when he gripped the metal in his teeth and tugged, Dean arched up, hand wrapping around the base of his cock and squeezing. He wasn’t going to come…he wasn’t…would the Dallas Cowboys have a good team this year? Did he buy milk at the grocery store? It wasn’t helping…

“Cas…please…you gotta stop that…or…” Dean’s words were replaced by a high pitched keening sound. Cas had curled the tip of his tongue through the hoop and pulled the sensitive nub between his teeth.   
Dean was aware of nothing and everything at the same time…his brain didn’t seem to be functioning, but he felt Cas’ hand cup his balls and squeeze. He knew the right amount of pressure to ride the line between pleasure and pain. Dean rocked his hips and instead of trying to stifle his orgasm, he needed it… His hand moved up and down…Cas’ mouth on his nipple didn’t stop moving…tugging…his teeth felt so fuckin’ good. “Fuckfuckfuck.” He was close…so close…

“Come,” Cas ordered, teeth still holding his nipple taut…then his thumb pressed on that one spot under his balls and Dean’s muscles seized. Wave after wave of pleasure…heat…rolling over him… For a split second he was suspended in midair and then he fell with a cry. Dean’s hand dropped away from cock and he just knew his heart was going to jump out of his chest. 

Cas’ head had lifted at some point and he was gazing up into Dean’s face. “Next time, I want to be able to see your face when you come. Making love in the dark isn’t a favorite of mine. I want to trace your tattoos with my tongue and watch your skin flush with arousal. I want to see your eyes…your lips…” Cas kissed him softly to punctuate his words.

“I think I’m going to have to keep your around…you’ve spoiled me for anyone else.” Dean’s mouth engaged before his brain did…maybe because he was still riding the high from his orgasm. He tensed, waiting for Cas response. He hadn’t meant to show his feelings…it was too soon. Yeah, the words were casual, but the meaning behind them…not so much.

“I want you to keep me around, Dean.” The languid kisses that followed slowed until Dean heard Cas’ soft steady breathing. Dean’s stomach was sticky with his cum, but Cas was tucked into his side and his head was on Dean’s shoulder and nothing in the world would make Dean move. 

***  
A sharp buzzing sound woke Castiel and he groaned. He opened one eye and noticed it was still dark. His alarm woke him to Rossini’s William Tell Overture. So, what was that infernal buzzing…his brain engaged then and he became aware of a warm body entwined with his and the body was moving…and cursing.

“Fuck…fucking alarm…damn it…son of a bitch…” The buzzing stopped abruptly. The body next to him tensed. “Cas?”

“Were you expecting someone else?” Castiel growled. He wasn’t his best in the morning on a good day with plenty of sleep. 

“Fuck…no…sorry…” Dean groaned and tried to sit up, but Castiel’s head was on his…and his face hit the mattress. “Sorry.”

“Quite alright,” Castiel said, words muffled into the bedding. “What time is it?”

“Four-thirty.”

“Four-thirty?” Castiel snarled. “Why in God’s name did you wake me up at four-thirty?”

“Damn, you’re an ass in the morning. I wanted to make sure you were up so you could get to class on time.”

Castiel quickly calculated the time it would take to drive home, shower, shave and get to his first class… “I can do it in an hour and twenty minutes if I don’t stop for coffee.”

“Do what?”

“Get to class. I can sleep for another hour.” He promptly turned on his side and closed his eyes. 

He felt Dean press against his back and then there was a soft whisper in his ear. “Or we could have sex.” Castiel’s eyes opened.

“I could be persuaded.”

“Hmmm, I’ll just bet.” Dean’s hand skimmed down his side before coming to rest on his upper thigh. He felt the nudge of Dean’s cock against the cleft of his ass. Dean kissed the back of his neck and then he felt a small nip…suction…

“Are you trying to give me a hickey?”

“I’m not trying, Babe…just marking what’s mine.”

Dean’s words gave Castiel a thrill. He was Dean’s. “My students might see.”

“They’ll know their professor is getting some,” Dean murmured, his lips hot on Castiel’s skin. Dean was doing delicious things to his body and soon he was rubbing his ass back against Dean’s cock like a bitch in heat. Dean’s hand moved to Castiel’s shaft and he pumped his cock into Dean’s fist. “Are you horny, Professor Novak?”

“Want you…Christ, Dean…” Castiel felt like he was on fire. He broke away and turned, his lips finding Dean’s in the dark. He rutted his cock against Dean’s, fumbling to get his hands around both of them. Soon they had a rhythm, cocks slick from arousal, Castiel’s long fingers bringing them closer. Dean’s hands were cupping his ass…pulling him closer…like he was trying to crawl inside of him. You couldn’t call it kissing anymore, their mouths open…panting…urgent pleas…

“Cas…close…”

“Yes...” Castiel gasped, then cried out. It had been fast, hard and filled with passion. Each wanting and needing. Castiel’s muscles were shaking and he couldn’t seem to catch his breath. Dean was resting his forehead against Castiel’s, their harsh breaths mingling together.

Eventually, Dean shifted so he was on his back. Castiel remained on his side. His heart rate slowed to normal and he watched the dawn break through the small cracks in the plantation blinds that covered Dean’s windows. He knew he would need to get up, but he was happy and sated and wanted this feeling to last a few minutes longer.

He could make out the angel tattoo on Dean’s bicep now and his finger traced it. Dean opened his eyes and turned to him. “Call in sick.”

Castiel’s eyes flew from the tattoo to Dean’s eyes. “What? Why?”

“Because next time…” Dean paused like he was gathering courage “…next time, I want to do this slow and I don’t want to wait until tonight or tomorrow night…or whenever we see each other again.”

“I can have Kevin take my morning class…”

“Call in sick, Cas. I want to spend the whole day with you…in bed.”

Castiel looked into Dean’s eyes and slowly nodded. 

***  
Dean got up and pulled on his sleep pants and a t-shirt while Cas was in the bathroom. Then he sent a text to both Charlie and Ash before heading downstairs.

GROUP TEXT/6:00 – Sick. Won’t be in.

The key to successful lying. Do not elaborate. Keep it short and simple. Cas was still upstairs talking to Kevin about lesson plans. The bastard didn’t lie…nope, the goody-two-shoes told his assistant that he was taking a personal day. Dean could just imagine the shit Charlie and Ash would give him if he told them he was taking a ‘personal day’.

He started the coffee and turned on his iPad. Using his cloud account, he opened the appointment book and started sending text messages to the clients he had coming in that day. He made a note in the book to give each person a discount for their inconvenience. Looked like he would be working all day Sunday to catch up. Spending the day with Cas was worth it.

He heard Cas’ tread on the stairs and got down two coffee cups. He got out the milk and sugar. Cas came in the kitchen just wearing boxers. He poured the coffee and pushed one of the cups across the counter. 

As Cas fixed his coffee, Dean looked down at the man’s legs. In the fluorescent lights of his kitchen he could see more detail on the tattoos on Cas’ calves. He waited until Cas was finished and had taken his first sip before taking the mug from him. Cas made a growling sound and Dean chuckled. “I’ll give it back in a second.” He put his hands on Cas’ hips and lifted him so he was sitting on the countertop. He handed Cas his coffee and then picked up Cas left foot so he could study the man’s calf. The quill was elaborate, a very detailed piece. At the tip was a drop of ink. He read the words aloud, “Even the darkest night will end and the sun will shine.”

“It’s from Les Misérables.”

“Victor Hugo,” Dean showed off his knowledge. 

Cas grinned. “Teacher’s pet.”

“I can stay after school…” Dean grinned mischievously and moved to stand between Cas’ thighs. Then he frowned. He stepped back. He pointed to each tattoo and counted. “One, two, three…” When he got to six he raised an eyebrow. “You said you had seven.”

“I do.”

“Where’s the seventh?” Cas pushed Dean back and jumped off the counter. He turned around and lowered his boxers. Along his hip and right cheek was a dragon done in a Celtic design. Dean licked his lips and reached out to hold Cas’ hips. He hadn’t been able to see it in the darkened bedroom. The colors were vivid…green, red, yellow. “What’s the story behind this one?” Dean’s eyes flicked up to the work he’d started on Cas’ wings. It was healing nicely.

“No story. It was my first and I thought it was badass.” Cas pulled up his boxers and turned back to face Dean.

Dean’s laughter was loud and infectious. Cas blushed with embarrassment but he was smiling too. “Come on, confess, you’ve got one you did just because you wanted to be cool.”

Dean dropped his pants and turned his hip so Cas could see the tribal dolphin on his calf. “My one and only mistake.”

“It’s really beautiful, Dean.” 

“Not as beautiful as this one.” Dean pulled his t-shirt over his head and turned so Cas could see his back. “This one is badass.”

He felt Cas’ hands on his back and let his head lull forward. Across his back in all its black inked glory was his pride and joy…his baby…the Impala. It had taken Charlie four sessions to complete it. “This is amazing, Dean.”

“If you ever need a portrait done, Charlie’s your girl.”

Dean bent to pull up his pants that had pooled around his ankles, but Cas’ hand on his hips stopped him. He felt Cas press up against him and his hands came around. One palm flat on Dean’s belly and the other at his nipple. Dean smirked. It seemed his mild mannered professor was fascinated by his nipple ring. Dean didn’t mind. After last night, he figured there must be a nerve from his nipple to his dick. Even now, in his kitchen, Dean’s cock was getting hard. Cas’ mouth was on his neck. “Can I fuck you, Dean.” And that finished the job…his cock was rock hard.

“Upstairs.” Dean kicked his pants free and left them on the kitchen floor. It took a long time for them to get back to Dean’s bedroom. Halfway up the stairs, Dean was pressed to the wall, hands held high above his head, the kissing dirty…the words dirtier.

Cas lost his boxers at the landing when Dean hit his knees and dragged them down. He took Cas in his mouth and sucked him like a porn star. When they finally made it to the bedroom, Cas shoved Dean onto the bed and took the time to open the blinds, letting the early morning sun stream in. “Better to see you with, my dear.”

The quote from the fairy tale made Dean groan and shake his head. “That was lame, Babe.”

Cas stood, stroking his cock. “I want to watch you, Dean. Get yourself ready for me.”

Dean’s smile faltered. He looked away. “I’ve never…done that…it…in front of someone.”

“You can do it for me. Now, Dean, let me see how much you want me.” Cas cock was hard and the head was slick with his arousal. Dean licked his lips and rolled over to get what he needed out of the drawer. He left the condom on top of the nightstand and squeezed a healthy portion of lube into his right hand. He lay back and spread his legs. He had to close his eyes…he hadn’t lied…doing this in front of someone while they watched…it felt…

“I want you, Dean. I want to watch you come for me. You are so fucking beautiful.” Cas’ words were soft and rhythmic. Dean’s apprehension lessened. His fingertip brushed against his hole and he arched his back. He pushed in and let his mind focus on Cas…Cas’ body…Cas’ voice…Cas’ mind. Had he fallen for his mind first…yes…another finger…then another… “Open your eyes, Dean.”

Dean slowly opened his eyes and gazed up at Cas. When had he moved closer? He could reach out and touch him. He smelled the heady aroma of sex. He fucked himself, fingers slick. Cas picked up the condom and Dean watched in fascination as Cas rolled it over his cock. Cas knelt on the bed and crawled between Dean’s thighs. Cas’ eyes locked with his. They were so blue…bluer than blue. He was beautiful like this, aroused, in control. Dean had never wanted anyone as much. He brought his knees up in an open invitation. Cas didn’t hesitate. He took Dean’s slick fingers and wrapped them around his shaft until he was wet with lube. 

When he pushed into Dean, Dean moaned. It had been a long time since he’d bottomed. It wasn’t his favorite. He liked being in charge…but this was Cas. He wanted to belong to Cas.

***  
Castiel watched Dean. He had three fingers in his tight, pink hole. Castiel could see the stretch of the muscle, wet and glistening with lube. Dean’s eyes were shut tightly. Bottom lip between clinched teeth. His freckles stood out against his flushed skin. He’d never wanted anyone more. 

“Open your eyes, Dean.” His eyes opened though his lids were heavy. Castiel rolled on the condom and slowly crawled between Dean’s spread thighs. He took Dean’s wrist and eased his fingers out. They were covered in the thick gel. He brought Dean’s hand to his cock and formed them into a fist. Castiel pumped into Dean’s hand for a few short strokes until his shaft was well lubricated. 

Castiel pushed in gently and on hearing Dean’s soft moan, he stopped, waiting for a sign that Dean was ready. Dean met his eyes again and he nodded. Castiel eased another inch in, his hands massaging Dean’s thighs, whispering, “So beautiful…feels so good, Dean…enticing…” Castiel’s mind was soon clouded with desire. He wanted to pound into Dean, hard and fast, but he held himself in check.

Once his length was buried in Dean’s tight channel, Castiel paused again. Dean was breathing rapidly, soft puffs of air from his open mouth. “Talk to me, Dean. Tell me what you want.”

“Want you…only you…please…just fuckin’ move.” Castiel pulled out a few inches and pushed back in, again…again…each time picking up the pace. Watching Dean’s face for any sign of pain. The only thing Castiel saw was pleasure. The merging of their bodies felt glorious. Dean thrust his hips up, meeting Castiel’s with wild abandon. Their hips in sync…a shared desire that was too far gone to stop. “Cas…Cas…” Dean’s hand on his cock moved faster. Castiel shift his hips so he was fucking at the perfect angle to drive Dean over the edge. He needed Dean to come around him. Their skin, moistened by sweat and precum, slapped together, that sound combined with Dean’s soft moans of pleasure was driving Castiel closer. 

Dean’s back arched off the bed and his guttural cry sent Castiel spiraling into his own release. He felt his cock throb inside of Dean, filling the condom, filling Dean. Castiel would remember for years to come Dean’s face, in that moment of ecstasy, at the exact moment he knew he’d lost his heart.

Castiel didn’t pull out right away, he couldn’t. He just collapsed onto Dean’s chest, not caring about the cooling cum between them. Dean kissed his sweaty forehead, his eyelids, his cheeks, his nose. “Cas, Babe, I can’t breathe.”

“Sorry.” Castiel rolled off and lay on his back, eyes on the ceiling. He must have dozed off, because Dean was shaking his shoulder. “Huh?”

“Huh? Where’s my professor and his great vocabulary?”

“Asleep,” Castiel grumbled.

“If he wants breakfast, he needs to get his pretty ass up.”

“You made breakfast?”

“Yep. French toast and bacon.” Dean looked so proud of himself that Castiel couldn’t help but pull him down for a kiss. “Babe, you are really adorable when you wake up, but your breath could knock a buzzard off a shit wagon.”

“I don’t recall you complaining a few hours ago.”

“I was horny then. Breath doesn’t matter when you’re horny. Everyone knows that.” He grabbed the sheet and ripped it off Castiel’s body. Castiel decided some teasing was in order, so he reached down to his cock and rubbed his palm up and down its length. 

“So, you aren’t horny now?” Dean’s eyes were watching Castiel’s hand intently. He grinned and looked back up at Castiel.

“Give me thirty minutes or so. I’m hungry. I’ve got to eat so I can keep you satisfied in bed all day.”

They sat across from each other in Dean’s dining room. Eating, laughing and sharing intimate smiles. Castiel could get used to this. Maybe he already was.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean tries to surprise Cas, things don't go as planned.

They did spend the day in bed…mostly. Dean had to have his meals…lunch…afternoon snack…dinner…

He had to admit, only to himself, that he was sore and tired. He hadn’t had this much sex since he was in his early twenties. Once breakfast was over, they’d done some sixty-nine action. After lunch, Dean ate out Cas’ ass until the man was begging to be fucked. And right before dinner, Cas took Dean against the kitchen counter. There were several naps tossed in throughout the afternoon.

Cas left after dinner and Dean didn’t want to see him go. He didn’t let on to that fact though,it would have been to…girly…and Dean Winchester wasn’t a freakin’ girl. He’d watched Cas dress and he thought covering that gorgeous body should have been against the law. They’d kissed at the door, a searing kiss that curled Dean’s toes. Cas had looked so reluctant to leave and honestly, it gave Dean hope that this ‘thing’ might have a future.

He took a few muscle relaxers before he crawled in bed. He was too fuckin’ old to have that much sex in one day, but damn, it had been awesome.

When he arrived at the shop, Ruby was waiting for him outside. She was holding two cups from Sweet Java.

“The guy at the counter said this was your usual order.”

Dean took the cup eagerly. “Thanks. We are going to get along fine.” He grinned at her and unlocked the door. Ruby began setting up her station right away. Dean went to their website and added Ruby’s name and noted that body piercing was now available at the shop. The sign company was supposed to come that afternoon to add Ruby’s name. 

“Here’s your key and the alarm code. When you’re done setting up, we’ll need to get together and set up your pricing chart.”

“Thanks, Dean.” Today, she was wearing low-rise jeans and a cropped tank that showed off a belly button ring and some nice ink.

The bell over the door chimed and Charlie walked in. “What’s up, bitches? How you feeling?” She directed the last question at Dean.

“Fine. Why?” Fuck…fuck…he’d had a mental lapse. “Uhm…still…” He faked a cough and Charlie’s eyebrow lifted. “…not real good, but I’ll make it.”

“You are so lying, Dean Winchester.”

“No, I’m not,” Dean said defensively.

“Are too.” She came right up to him, her face turned up so she could look up at him. It was funny to Dean since she was about seven inches shorter than him. She did look scary though. He took a step back.

“Alright. I just needed a…” Shit, what did Cas call it? Oh yeah, “…a personal day.”

Charlie snorted. “Personal day?” She shook her head in disbelief and then Dean could almost see the lightbulb come on over her head. “You got some. Oh my God, you got a piece of ass. You took a day off for the horizontal mambo. This is a first.”

“Cas isn’t just a piece of ass,” Dean retorted. He mentally kicked himself again. Charlie had a way of making him spew his secrets out into the universe…or at least, to her.

Charlie’s face changed, all traces of humor gone. “Oh, Dean…you really like him.”

“Who?” Ash asked from behind him. Dean hadn’t heard the stupid bell.

“Dean likes his sexy professor.”

“You’re dating a professor? From the university?” Ruby asked, suddenly interested in the conversation. This was just great. His love life is now the main topic of conversation. Before he could answer, Charlie responded.

“Yes and he’s dreamy…in a manly way…not my team, but he’s pretty to look at.” Dean tuned out his employees as they gossiped about him. He tried not to let it bother him. Normally, when he friends teased him about his sexual conquests, he was right in there with them, offering tidbits of information about the size of the guy’s dick or the girl’s tits, but this time it was private. Cas wasn’t just a piece of ass. For one thing, he was crazy smart. Why he was with Dean was still the question of the day.

Clients began to arrive and soon the shop was humming with the sounds of their tattoo guns. Even Ruby had a client, a bartender at Hell’s Bells, who stopped by for a consultation with Ash. Dean thought the guy was more interested in Ruby herself than a piercing. When they went into the private room, Charlie met Dean’s eyes and made a face. “Ick.”

“Five will get you ten, he’s getting a barbell on his dick,” Ash said, rolling his eyes. 

Dean’s client, a twenty something baseball player groaned. “Do guys really do that?” The poor guy’s hand cupped his crotch protectively.

“Yep,” Dean answered. Then Ash began to give a lesson on the reasons behind various piercings. Dean finished the logo for the Wichita Wingnuts on the man’s bicep and applied the ointment and bandage. He was prepping his station for his next client when the shop’s phone rang. Charlie was the closest so she caught it. After she hung up, she yelled back to Dean, “Your next appointment was in a fender bender. Won’t make it, he said he’d call to reschedule.”

“He hurt?” Dean asked, concerned for Vic. Vic was a repeat customer. Today, Dean was supposed to start a large piece on the man’s leg.

“No. He said a Hummer hit his Mustang.”

“Ouch.” Dean felt the man’s pain. Vic drove a ’69 Fastback. He didn’t even want to know what one of those huge gas hogs would do to his baby in an accident. Dean made his way over to the appointment book and marked out Vic’s name. That gave him four hours of idle time. He could wait around for any walk-ins, but it was close to lunch. Maybe he could surprise Cas.

He swung into his favorite diner and got two fried chicken meals and two slices of apple pie. When he got to the campus, he slowed the car. He had no idea where Cas’ taught. He saw one of the university’s police cars and flagged him down. The officer gave him directions to Wescoe Hall. Dean picked up the bags and got out of the car. He noticed several stares from students and a few older people. He looked down at himself. He was wearing jeans with a hole in the knee, a tight fitting Purgatory Ink t-shirt so his sleeve was visible. Suddenly, he wasn’t as confident. He never thought about the way he dressed or the way he looked. This was different. This was Cas’ world. He was a professor…a professor who wore a suit and tie every day. Some of those people staring at him were probably Cas’ colleagues. This was a bad idea. He looked down at the bags in his hand. He could always pretend to be a delivery person.

He entered the building and looked around. There was a brass sign and Dean skimmed over it until he found Professor C.J. Novak’s name. Room 4008. He saw a group of students sitting around a table. When he approached, they stopped talking. “I’ve got a delivery for Professor Novak.”

“He’s in 4008,” a young Asian man said.

“Yeah, well, I’ve got a few more deliveries. Can one of you take it to him?”

***  
Kevin knocked once and opened Castiel’s door. “Your lunch order is here.”

Castiel looked up, confused. “Lunch order?”

“Yes. You didn’t order anything?”

“No.” Castiel eyed the bag. He brought a ham and cheese sandwich for his lunch, but the wonderful aroma coming from the bag made him lust after whatever was in it.

“I’ll see if I can catch the guy. He asked for you by name though and said it was already paid for.”

“Really? What restaurant was he from?”

“Not sure. He had a t-shirt from some tattoo parlor on.” Castiel stood so fast he almost knocked his chair over. 

“Did he have short brown hair? Nice looking?”

“Yeah. Nice looking guy, I suppose.”

Castiel snatched the bag out of Kevin’s hands and took off. He ran down the hallway, startling a group of students. He stopped on the front step and looked around. He saw the Impala at the far end of the lot. He ran. He was glad he’d been doing extra training for the university’s 5K. Dress shoes were not conducive to sprinting, but he turned up his speed anyway. 

He skidded to a halt and saw Dean sitting behind the wheel. He was staring straight forward. He tapped on the window. Dean jumped and his eyes met Castiel’s through the window. Instead of opening the door like Castiel wanted him to, he rolled down the window. “Hey, Cas.”

“Hello, Dean.” He held up the bag. “Why didn’t you deliver this yourself?”

Dean looked away. “Didn’t want to embarrass you in front of your students,” he mumbled.

“You idiot. You stupid, beautiful idiot.” Dean returned his eyes to Castiel. “Get out of the car and come eat lunch with me.”

“Cas, I’m just not…”

“Now, damn it. Get out of the fucking car, Dean.” Anger surged through Castiel. Dean thought the way he looked would be an embarrassment. Did the man not realize how gorgeous he was?

“Cas…”

Castiel lowered his head to Dean’s window. “If you don’t get out of that car right Goddamn now, I will pull you out. If you want to act like a child, I can treat you like one.” Castiel words were said through clinched teeth.

Dean sighed, but opened the door. Castiel backed away, so Dean could get out. He saw the other bag on the passenger seat. “Get your lunch.” Dean reached in and got it. Castiel laced his fingers through Dean’s and pulled him back to the building. “Cas, you don’t have to do this. I’m okay…really.”

“Shut up. I’m still incredibly angry right now.” 

“Great,” Dean muttered.

When they entered the building, the same group of students was standing there and Kevin was with them. Castiel walked up to the group. “Kevin, I’d like you to meet my boyfriend, Dean Winchester. Dean his is my assistant, Kevin Tran.”

Kevin reached out his hand to shake Dean’s but realized Castiel was gripping one and the other held Dean’s lunch. He gave a small wave instead. “Nice to meet you.”

“Yeah, nice to meet you too.”

Castiel nodded to the other students and pulled Dean down the hallway. “My lecture halls are down there.” He raised their clasped hands to point. “My office is this way.” They turned a corner and Castiel let go of Dean’s hand to open the door to his office. “We can eat in here.”

Dean stood in the doorway looking unsure. “Sit.” Castiel pointed to a chair. Dean sat. Castiel looked at the clock on the wall. “I only have about twenty minutes before my next class starts. I would have had longer to eat with you, but your shenanigans ate up a lot of my time.”

The corner of Dean’s mouth lifted. “Shenanigans?” he repeated.

“I couldn’t come up with another word to describe your behavior. If you give me time, I’m sure I could come up with a list of descriptive adjectives.”

Castiel opened his bag and groaned. “Fried chicken. Manna from heaven.” 

They ate in silence for awhile, but Castiel saw Dean cast a few furtive glances his way. “I assumed you’d be busy at the shop today.”

“Had a cancellation.” Dean took another bite of chicken and then said, “You called me your boyfriend.”

“Isn’t that the proper term? We do have a ‘thing’, don’t we?” Dean gave a soft bark of laughter at his air quotes.

“I can live with boyfriend.”

“I’m glad you find it acceptable.” Castiel’s anger was beginning to erode and sadness was taking its place. “Dean, it bothers me that you thought I would be embarrassed by you.”

“I don’t give a shit if people know…but these…” Dean motioned with his hands, “…these people are different…they’re your colleagues and your students. It should bother you, Cas. Look at me…look at the way I dress…my ink…”

“Fuck you, Dean.” Castiel stood up and snarled. “You are a snob.”

“What the hell? I’m no snob.”

“You like to think people are looking down on you for the way you look, but in reality, you look down on them. You had me in that category the moment I walked into your shop.”

“That was different. I’m no snob, Cas. I just know from experience that people like you think people like me are losers…social rejects…”

Castiel felt like he’d been slapped. “People like me?”

“Fuck, you know what I mean.” Dean ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. The timid knock on the door stopped Castiel from losing the tentative hold he had on his temper.

“What!” Castiel snapped.

“Class is starting in five,” Kevin called through the frosted glass of the door.

“Thank you.” Castiel remained standing, breathing harsh in the quiet room.

“This isn’t going to work is it?” Dean asked softly, his eyes looked sad and far away.

“It has to work, Dean.” 

Dean’s eyes focused on Castiel’s. “What? Why?”

“Because I’ve already…already started to fall…” Castiel turned away. He hated anyone to see him vulnerable. 

“Cas? What are you saying?”

“I’m picturing a future with you, Dean.” Castiel told the wall where all his diplomas were hung. He remembered a time when those documents meant the world to him. Now, the most important thing in his life was his relationship with the man standing behind him.

“Cas…”

“No, please don’t say anything.”

“Now who is being the idiot?” 

Castiel hung his head. “I think fool is a better term.” 

***  
Dean couldn’t process what Cas was saying at first. Yes, he understood the words…but the meaning behind them…not so much. How could someone like this stuffy, highbrow speaking professor want someone like him?

He wished he had a drink. A shot of courage. He took a deep breath and then the voice came through the door again. “Castiel, your class is waiting.”

“Let them wait!” Dean shouted. Castiel spun and the look of shock was priceless. Dean would have laughed, but the situation was a bit too serious for that.

“Okay then,” came the muffled reply.

“Dean, I need to get to class. I’m conducting an oral exam today.” Castiel’s voice was barely above a whisper.

“We’re more important than some damn test, Cas. I’m flying blind here. This…this thing we have…it’s important to me. I want it, Cas. I want you.” When Cas opened his mouth to say something, Dean held up his hand. “I’m not finished…let me get through this…” He took another deep breath. “It’s not just the sex…that’s pretty fucking awesome, but it’s not just that…it’s listening to you talk…you sound so fucking smart and then you do that stupid thing with your head, tilting it all sideways and fuck, you are so adorable. I want to wake up next to you. Watch you bake pies…those little pieces of heaven… Christ, I don’t know how to say it.”

“Tell him you love him.” Both men’s gazes flew to the closed door. Castiel yanked it open and Kevin stood there looking sheepish. There were six other students from his next class standing with him. “Uhm, we’ll just go back to class now.” As a unit, they turned and sprinted down the hall. 

“Well, that was awkward,” Dean whispered.

“Very,” Cas agreed. There was a twinkle in Cas’ blue eyes and his lips were lifted at one corner.

“So, yeah…maybe I love you. I know it’s craz…” Cas slammed him against the wall and cut him off mid-sentence. His mouth was wet and hot…punishing. It took Dean a second to get with the program and then he was kissing him back, tangling his hands in Cas’ hair. When they finally broke apart, Cas looked wrecked. His hair was standing on end and Dean’s whiskers had left raw, red patches on Cas’ cheeks. His lips were swollen and bruised. “You…you should…probably go to class.”

“Yes.” Cas looked dazed.

“I guess I’ll see you tonight…maybe?”

“Definitely.”

Dean nodded and backed up a step, then two. His third step backwards had him tripping on a pile of books. “Okay, I’ll just go then.”

“Goodbye, Dean.” 

When Dean got back to the car, he laughed. Cas’ students were going to get an eyeful. Cas looked like he’d just had marathon sex. He looked in the rearview mirror. He grinned. So did he.

He drove back to the shop, hands gripped tightly on the wheel. So, yeah, he loved Cas. And maybe it was crazy to fall for someone you barely knew. He remembered something he read in a book somewhere, you had to be crazy to be in love because love was an irrational emotion. It made sense now.

Dean walked into the shop. Charlie was sitting at the front counter and she choked on her drink when she saw Dean. “Did you have a nooner?”

Everyone in the shop stared at Dean. He blushed. “Shut up.” He couldn’t keep the grin off his face though. Charlie kept giving him curious looks all day, but he wasn’t talking. 

It was five-thirty and Dean stretched his back muscles. The Celtic Cross was just about done. Just the colored shading was left. The pretty redhead needed a break and Dean stood up to go get her some water out of the fridge. Benny came through the door. The soft smile Dean had been wearing all day disappeared. “Benny.” Dean nodded hello.

“You got a second?”

Dean looked around the shop. “I can give you five minutes.” He walked the bottle of water back to the redhead and told her he’d be right back. He stepped out into the alley. “What do you want, Benny?”

“Did Sam tell you I called him?”

“I haven’t talked to Sam in a few days.”

“He gave me a guy’s name. A divorce lawyer. I went to see him and he…he thinks he can help me.”

“You need money?”

“No. Why are you being such an asshole?”

“Gee, let me think…my best friend was lying to me an entire fuckin’ year…yeah, that’s probably it.”

“I apologized, Dean. You want it in blood?”

Dean closed his eyes and sighed. “Look, Benny, I’m glad this guy can help you and I hope it works out.”

“I want us to be friends again, Dean. Let’s start over. What’ll you say? After the divorce, we’ll grab a couple of beers…”

“I’m in a relationship, Benny.”

“What? You?”

“Yeah, I know it’s hard to believe, but I think he may be the one.”

“Damn, Brother. I’m happy for you. Really. I mean it. You deserve someone special.”

“Thanks.”

“I wasn’t coming here to continue what we had, Dean. I was coming to ask for your friendship again.”

Dean looked into Benny’s eyes and saw his old friend. “Maybe we can go out for a beer sometime. I’ll introduce you to Cas.”

Benny’s smile was warm…the old Benny…

As he closed up the shop that night, he thought about his day. He and Cas had their first fight…boy, was Cas a badass when he was angry. It was kind of hot. It was time to go see his boyfriend. Dean saw some makeup sex in his near future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, makeup sex?


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They survived their first fight, but what about their next one. The green eyed monster visits.

Castiel took a deep breath outside his class. He was already fifteen minutes late, what was another thirty seconds to collect his thoughts. He opened the door and strode confidently up the lectern. Kevin gave him a horrified look from his desk in the corner. “What?” he hissed quietly.

The giggles started then. Castiel faced his class. “Today we will have the oral test…” Loud laughter swept the room. Castiel zeroed in on one of his best students. “Miss Jeffers, could you please explain what everyone finds so humorous?”

He waited while she collected herself. “I…we…couldn’t help but notice that your tie is…askew.”

Castiel looked down. It was hanging slightly off kilter, but it shouldn’t be that funny. “Very well, let’s begin the test. I will go in alphabetical order and you will each have one oral essay question. Keep your answers concise and please do not go off topic.”

“Amanda Aldridge, regarding the poem, ‘How Do I Love Thee, by Elizabeth Barrett Browning, what did she mean by the last line?” 

“The last line tells the reader that the poem is not about love at all, but grief. She’s lost her lover. Her love for her…man…” More tittering made Castiel look around the hall sharply. “…is eternal and exists even after his death. She seems to be saying she will continue to love him even after her own death.”

“Very good. Any questions?” Several hands came up. Castiel frowned. He expected one or two, but three quarters of the students had their hands in the air. Kevin had his face buried on his desk. 

“Yes, Miss Roberts?”

“I just wondered how many tattoos your boyfriend has?”

Castiel moved back behind the lectern. “What does that have to do with the Browning’s poem?”

The young woman shrugged. “Nothing, I was curious. He’s hot.”

He looked to Kevin for help and Kevin seemed to be banging his head on the desk. “Well…thank you…any other questions? Yes, Miss Atkins?”

“Do you have any ink, Professor Novak?”

“I…ur…” The English language seemed to be failing him. He clutched the lectern until his knuckles were white. “…I do have…ink.”

“How did you meet?” A voice from the back yelled out. He was losing control of his classroom. 

“He…Dean…is…can we please get back on topic?”

“Is that a hickey on your neck, Professor Novak?” Another student called from the left.

Castiel touched his neck self-consciously. “This is all very inappropriate.”

“Show us your tattoo, Professor Novak.” He looked helplessly at Kevin. At least his assistant was making eye contact with him now. 

“What brought this on?” He hissed in a stage whisper to Kevin.

Kevin gave him a weak smile. “You should have taken a moment and looked in the mirror.”

“What? Why?” 

A student in the first row rummaged in her purse and ran up to bring him a mirror. He looked at himself and if someone could die from embarrassment, he would be a fatality. He looked thoroughly debauched. His hair was in total disarray, his lips were swollen and bruised and God, he had whisker burn over half his face. 

“I seem to be ill prepared for this class. I will see you on Friday.” He looked down at the lectern, ashamed of himself. His students would never take him seriously again.

“Professor Novak, don’t be mad at us. We just think you and your boyfriend make the cutest couple,” Amanda Aldridge said. Several of the girls nodded in agreement. 

“I just think your boyfriend looks like a badass. I’d love to see his ink.” One of the school’s football players said. The male students seemed to agree with him.

“Come on, Professor Novak, show us your tattoo.”

“I have seven.” The ohs and ahs resounded in the room and Kevin grinned. “Very well.” Castiel removed his jacket and laid it carefully on the desk. He unbuttoned the cuffs to his shirt and rolled up first one sleeve than the other. Suddenly, his students were gathered around him, asking him questions. 

Kevin and Castiel walked back to his office after class. “Kevin, Dean suggested that I could relate to the students better if I dressed differently. Do you think that’s true?”

Kevin shrugged. “Castiel, you are one of the best liked professors in the English Department because of your knowledge and the way you make even the most boring subject interesting.”

“You are evading the question.”

“Yes. Today was pretty cool. Minus the whole ‘I just had a nooner in my office’ look you were rocking. There were people asking questions about you and your tattoos that never open up in class. I think we learn more when we can relate to whoever is teaching us.”

Castiel gathered his things and drove home. Dean would be working until seven, so he had time to write before starting dinner. He went to his bedroom and took off his tie. He hung it neatly on the rack with the twenty or so other ties. He hung up his suit next to the four other suits. He stood in his closet staring at the suits. 

Today was the first time he’d ever had a personal discussion with his students. Instead of seeing it as a breach of his privacy, he enjoyed it once the shock wore off. None of them seemed to care that he was gay. Perhaps he would try Dean’s suggestion.

Dean knocked on his door at seven-fifteen. Castiel had the Cornish game hens resting and the caramel apple pie was almost done. 

“It smells great in here, Cas.” Dean tossed his jacket on the couch. Castiel picked it up and hung it on the coatrack behind the door. Dean smirked. “Neat freak.”

Castiel rolled his eyes. “I hope you are hungry.”

Dean sidled up to him and grabbed his waist. “Hungry for you.”

Castiel remembered their heated kisses in his office and pulled Dean towards him. They clung to each other. Dean’s hands snaked behind Castiel’s neck and the kiss deepened. When Dean’s hands slid down his back to cup his ass, Castiel moaned. Suddenly, he couldn’t stand the clothes separating them. His hands found the bottom of Dean’s t-shirt and lifted it. They broke apart just long enough get the shirt over Dean’s head. The two men cursed and grunted as they fought to strip each other. 

They were breathing hard and Castiel wanted nothing more than to push Dean back on the couch and bury his cock inside him. He was just about to do exactly that when the timer on the oven went off. Castiel growled. “Pie. Oven.” He released Dean and headed for the kitchen.

“Pie?” Dean grinned and followed him. Castiel took the pie out of the oven and checked the potatoes. Dean was leaning against the counter. “Naked cooking. I like it.”

Castiel grinned at him. “You would. We should eat now, while everything is hot.” His erection had flagged somewhat and noted Dean’s had as well. He tossed the oven mitts on the counter and clasped Dean’s hand, pulling him back to the bedroom.

“I thought we were going to eat, Cassanova.” Dean chuckled at his own joke. “Get it, Cas…Cassanova.”

“You should take that act on the road. Perhaps Ron White would let you tour with him.” 

“Funny, Cas.” Castiel reached into his dresser and pulled out two pair of sweatpants. He tossed one to Dean while he pulled on the other pair.

Dinner was a success if the moans that came out of Dean’s mouth were anything to go by. “On Fridays, I have movie night at my house. I want you to come. You know, so you can meet everyone.”

“Oh…well…okay.” Castiel was curious about Dean’s friends. 

“Sam and Jess come, and Ash and Charlie…sometimes they bring a date. I’m going to try to get Benny to come.”

Castiel heard Dean talk about all his friends except Benny. “Who is Benny?” Dean’s smile faded and his eyes seemed to get a guarded look. Castiel had a feeling that he wasn’t going to like Dean’s answer.

“Benny is an old friend. We…uhm…used to hang out…a lot. We had a fight recently and he came by the shop today and we…talked it out.”

“What was the fight about?”

“It was nothing.” Dean’s eyes had dropped to his plate.

“You were more than friends,” Castiel guessed. 

Dean looked back up. “No…no…nothing like that…” Castiel’s eyes never wavered. Dean rubbed his hands over his face. “We had a thing.” At Castiel’s look, Dean shook his head. “No, wrong word. Not a thing thing. Fuck…we were fuck buddies…okay? He would come around when he had an itch and…”

“Have you been with him since you met me?”

Dean seemed to have to think about it and Castiel slammed his chair back. “I think you should go.” He was barely controlling his rage. He thought Dean was different. Dean said he loved him.

“For fuck’s sake, Cas. It was right after we met for the first time. Before Crowley’s party. Before we…you know. Christ, I wouldn’t cheat on you. He wanted to continue and I told him no and that’s when we fought and…damn it, Cas…I love you. I don’t fuckin’ cheat.” Dean stood up too. The table with the remnants of their meal between them.

Castiel closed his eyes. His hands relaxed and he held onto the back of his chair. 

“Please, Cas, you have to believe me.”

He couldn’t speak. He believed Dean and he knew in his head that he had no right to be jealous. His heart was a completely different story. He picked up his plate and walked into the kitchen. Dean was right behind him. “Cas…say something.”

“Leave me alone, Dean.” He needed time to process everything. That’s how he was. He just needed a few minutes to calm down and he’d be fine. Dean snatched the plate out of his hands and threw it in the sink. It shattered.

“Talk to me, Goddamn it.”

Castiel’s jaw was so tight it hurt. He glared at Dean. “I said I needed you to leave me alone.”

“I don’t fucking believe this. We weren’t even together, Cas.” 

“Give me time…” Castiel started.  
***

“Time? To what? Forgive me? Fuck you, Cas. I didn’t do anything to be forgiven for.” Dean stomped out of the kitchen. He needed to get out of there before he broke down. He wouldn’t let Cas see how badly he was hurting. 

His clothes were scattered around Cas’ living room. He couldn’t take the time to dress. He grabbed up everything…his jeans…his boots… he’d fuckin’ leave his socks and shirt… He was to the door when Cas grabbed him from behind and spun him around. He was shoved against the door, his boots and jeans falling to the floor, and then Cas was in his face. “Damn you, Dean. I just needed a few fucking minutes to think… But no, you couldn’t give me that. You just jump to conclusions and run away. Is that how it’s going to be all the time? Every time we have a fight are you going to run? Tell me right now, Dean. Is it? I just want to know what to expect in the future.”

Dean swallowed, his eyes on Cas’. They weren’t the normal bright blue. This blue was dark, stormy…angry. Cas’ words weren’t making sense. He’d wanted Dean gone, but he mentioned a future. “You wanted me gone,” Dean whispered, his voice cracking on the last word.

“You pig-headed idiot. I just…look…when I’m pissed, I just need a few minutes to process things. That’s all, Dean. I wasn’t telling you to go.”

Adrenalin was still coursing through Dean. Cas didn’t want him to leave. “For someone with a PhD, you’d think you could communicate better. I’m just a dumb dropout, so you can’t blame me for not getting it.”

Dean didn’t know how it was possible, but Cas’ eyes got even darker. He felt his arm almost being ripped from its socket as Cas snatched him away from the door and dragged him down the hall. He was thrown on Cas’ bed and Cas was on top of him. “If you ever call yourself dumb again, I swear to God, I will turn you over my knee and beat that beautiful ass of yours.”

Dean’s eyes widened. His mild manner professor was beyond pissed. He’d seen Cas angry at the school, but now…this was a whole new level. “Cas…”

“Shut up. Not another word.”

Dean closed his mouth. Cas gripped the waistband of Dean’s sweats and yanked them down his legs. Dean couldn’t do anything but raise his ass enough for Cas to do the job. “You are an insufferable…” Cas’ teeth found Dean nipple ring and tugged hard. Dean gasped and arched his back. “…self-deprecating…” Cas’ knees shoved Dean’s thighs apart “…bastard.” 

“Cas…”

“I said shut up. One more word and so help me God, I will gag you.” Cas glared at him. Dean nodded, his lips sealed tightly. His cock was hard as a rock. “Don’t move.” 

Cas jumped off the bed and Dean didn’t dare move or ask where he was going. He disappeared into the closet and came out a second later holding two ties. Dean’s cock twitched in anticipation. “Might as well get some use out of them since I won’t be wearing them anymore,” Cas was mumbling to himself. Dean let himself be tied by his wrists to Cas’ headboard. He could see Cas’ erection tented in his sweatpants. Once Cas was satisfied with his knots, he opened his nightstand and pulled out a condom and a bottle of lube. He frowned at the condom and then he looked at Dean. “We’re getting tested. I don’t want anything between me and the man I plan on spending the rest of my life with.”

“Wha…”

“I will gag you.” Dean’s mouth snapped closed. He watched Cas pour the gel into his hand and re-cap the bottle. It was thrown to the floor. Dean spread his legs wide. “Good boy,” Cas said huskily.

Cas’ fingers found Dean’s puckered hole and he could feel pressure. When the first one breached his entrance, he inhaled sharply. “Easy,” Cas murmured.

It didn’t take long until Dean was out of his mind with the pleasure Cas’ fingers were giving him. He was stretched and ready, but Cas kept rubbing against his prostate. He was edging…all he could focus on was his need for release. Dean’s hips were thrusting upwards, his cock slapping against his stomach with each upward motion. 

Cas growled and pulled his fingers out. “When I’m done with you, you will never…ever…think about another man.”

“Never,” Dean whispered. Cas stood up and Dean could see the front of his sweats were wet from his arousal. He pulled them down and kicked them away. Almost angrily, he picked up the foil packet and tore it open with his teeth. Dean watched as he rolled it down his thick shaft. His eyes met Dean’s and held as he crawled onto the bed. He lifted Dean’s hips and pushed in. One stroke and he was inside. Dean saw stars. He wrapped his legs around Cas’ waist and kept him still. 

Cas was breathing heavily. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” Dean felt it was safe to speak now. Cas’ anger seemed to have subsided. “Now, fuck me like you mean it.”

Cas’ smile was feral. He pulled out and slammed back in. Dean grunted, but with the next thrust, he met Cas halfway. It didn’t come close to lovemaking. This was nasty…angry sex and Dean needed it like air. Damp skin met damp skin. Dean bucked up in perfect rhythm with Cas’ downward strokes. Each one bringing him closer to the edge. Sweat ran down Cas’ face and dripped onto Dean’s straining cock, mixing with his precum. They were both fighting to bring air into their heaving lungs. Cas’ pace quickened. Dean felt like he couldn’t sate the hunger his body had developed for Cas’ cock.

Dean’s moans were low and guttural. He was close. So damn close. “Cas…Cas…”

“Come for me, Dean.” Cas fucked into him again and again and ecstasy exploded inside his belly, his chest, his balls. He tightened around Cas’ cock and Cas cried out. His thrusts erratic as he emptied himself inside of Dean. In one motion, Cas collapsed on top of him and grabbed both sides of Dean’s face. The kiss was soft and sweet, completely different from the rough sex they’d just shared. “Love you so much. Don’t ever leave me.”

Dean couldn’t find his voice. He just hummed against Cas’ mouth.  
Much later, after a shower and Cas’ insistence on cleaning up the kitchen. They lay on Cas’ bed. Dean was in that hazy state between being awake and sleep. 

“I meant what I said, Dean.”

“About what, Babe?” Dean mumbled. His hand reached over to rub Cas’ chest.

“About spending the rest of my life with you.” All vestiges of sleep disappeared. Dean was wide awake. He rolled over so he was half lying on Cas’ chest. He kissed Cas and smiled down at him.

“I want that too, Cas.” The next hour, they talked about their future…moving in together…what they thought their families’ reactions were going to be. They drifted off wrapped in a tangle of arms and legs.

The William Tell Overture bolted Dean upright. “Son of a bitch!”

Cas rolled over and pushed the button to stop the music. He stumbled out of bed and headed for his bathroom. Dean was still trying to get his heart to start again. First thing he was doing when they moved in together was change Cas’ alarm. There was nothing wrong with a simple buzz, they didn’t need a fuckin’ symphony waking them up every morning.

The toilet flushed and Dean heard the shower start. He didn’t need to get up at the buttcrack of dawn. He closed his eyes and drifted back to sleep. The sharp smack on his bare ass gave him the second heart attack of the day. “Fuck.”

“I’m leaving. Lock up when you go.” Cas’ lips found his in the darkened room. “See you later.”

“Later.” Dean burrowed back under the pillow. Then he called out. “Hey, I love you, asshole.”

“I love you too, Ass butt.”

“Ass butt?” Dean muttered and fell asleep. His last thought was there was something different about the way Cas looked…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm hoping to finish this one up in one or two more chapters...depends on what the muse tells me to do. These two must go on to live happily ever after while I plot the next love story of Dean and Cas.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, another one must end. And as always, Cas and Dean live happily ever after.

Professor Fields, who taught creative writing, gave him a strange look and a tentative wave. Several students stopped and stared, then grinned. He even heard a ‘way to go, teach’. He unlocked his office and plugged in his external hard drive. He had just enough time to print out the assignment for his eight o’clock class. He had to bypass Sweet Java this morning and the coffee he’d gotten at the drive-thru was barely tolerable. Kevin came in and tossed his backpack on the floor and froze. “Castiel?”

“Yes? Where you expecting someone else to be in my office?”

“Dude. Wow. You look freakin’ sick.”

Castiel’s face fell. “I thought this would be acceptable if I wanted to relate more.”

Kevin laughed. “No, sick is good. Real good.”

  
“Sick is good?”

“See, this is why you’ve got to talk more about real stuff in class. Open up about things and they’ll open up to you. Your students can teach you things too, like current slang.”

When he walked into class ten minutes later, he was met with silence and then the class erupted in applause. He looked at Kevin. His assistant was grinning from ear to ear. His choice of a pair of jeans that were just shy of being too big for him that he’d found in the back of his closet and one of his t-shirts he used for running seemed to be okay with his students. The jeans were riding a bit low on his hips and he had to remind himself not to keep pulling them up. The t-shirt had a sock monkey on it and for the life of him, he couldn’t remember where he got it. Black boots completed the look. The ink on his arms was visible. This class wasn’t there for his unveiling yesterday and they didn’t know about Dean and the alleged nooner in his office.

“Okay ladies and gentlemen, today we are going to change things up a bit. Before I hand out our new reading assignment list, I want everyone in here to tell me something about yourself…it could be a hobby, a hidden talent, a dream or aspiration…anything you want to share. I’m going to start us off.”

He waited until all the whispering to stop. “I have a seven tattoos. My boyfriend, Dean is currently working on my eighth.” In that one sentence, he gave his students two pieces of information. He had more ink and he was gay. He wanted to see what they did with it. “Mr. Tran, why don’t you go next.”

Kevin stood up. “My secret guilty pleasure is reading…” he hesitated and then thrust his hands in his pockets, “…romance novels.”

“Miss Brewer?”

“I was anorexic when I was in high school and still worry about my weight.” Castiel smiled at the slim girl and vowed to talk to her about that the next time she came to his office for her term evaluations.

“Mr. Davis.”

“I have two moms,” the baseball team’s pitcher said softly.

And so, around the lecture hall, students revealed things. Some were funny, most were not. Cas was made aware he had a transgender in his room. He found out two more girls struggled with their body images. When everyone had their turn, Cas moved right into his lesson plan. It wasn’t until after the class was over that he found out he’d made an impact. Instead of crowding the exit, the students gathered around him, asking questions about his ink, his boyfriend, his new tattoo. He responded by asking questions himself. His students weren’t just last names anymore.

He followed them out. “Miss Brewer? Amy?” The girl turned. He leaned over and whispered so only she could hear. “Kevin and I run on the school’s track after lunch most days. Why don’t you join me?”

“Really? You wouldn’t mind?”

“I wouldn’t have asked otherwise.”

“That was nice,” Kevin said once they got back to his office.

“I thought it turned out okay.”

“Yeah, the whole getting to know you thing was cool, but I was talking about what you said to Amy.”

“Body image is a delicate subject. Boys aren’t as prone to obsessing over it as girls and young women. Telling her she was skinny or trying to dissuade her own thoughts wouldn’t help. By inviting her to run, I am proposing a healthy alternative to maintain her body. Running and working out will cause her body to crave more calories and she will see that all food isn’t bad.”

“Did you minor in psychology or something?”

“No. I just read a lot.”

He did a similar exercise in his next class and the one after that. All with positive results. When he got back to his office after his last class, he sent a text to Dean about their plans for the evening. Dean called right back.

“Hey, Babe, I’m between appointments, so I got a few minutes. Why don’t you meet me at my house and I spring for pizza.”

“No anchovies.”

“As if…fish on pizza is gross. And no pineapple. Fruit doesn’t belong on pizza either.”

“I hate mushrooms,” Castiel contributed.

“You can pick them off,” Dean offered.

“No.”

“Just like that. No. No compromise. Nada. Zip. No.”

“Exactly,” Castiel held his ground.

“Fine. I’ll do without,” Dean said petulantly.

“Oh, you won’t be doing without, Dean.” Castiel dropped the tone of his voice to barely above a whisper. There was absolute silence from Dean’s end. Did he lose him? He took his phone away from his ear and then he heard Dean.

“Easy, Tiger. I’m still at work, remember? I can’t be walking around with a freakin’ boner.”

“That didn’t seem to be an issue when you were at my place of employment. I showed up in class like I’d just been fucked against the wall of my office. It was embarrassing, Dean. Perhaps turnabout is fair play.”

Dean laughed out loud. “Your students give you a hard time, Cas?”

“Let’s just say that I prayed for a hole to swallow me up.”

***

After they hung up, Dean went back to work with a smile on his face. All was right in his world. When he got home, Cas was in the driveway, leaning against his car. He was dressed damn sexy. Dean was glad he’d changed out of his suit…even if the thought of Cas’ ties made his dick twitch all day.

“You look hot, Babe.”

“Thank you. My students seemed to like it as well.”

Dean almost dropped the pizza. “Wait…you wore that to work?”

“Didn’t you say I should dress down in order for my students to relate to me better?”

“Yeah…I guess, but maybe I meant like khakis and a polo…not…damn it, Cas, I can almost see your…” Dean saw the thin line of hair that led to Cas’ happy place. The idea of young co-eds looking at that made him uncomfortable.

“My what?” Cas looked down self-consciously.

“Never mind. Just from now on, wear mom jeans or something.”

“Mom jeans? I don’t understand that reference, Dean.”

When Friday afternoon rolled around, Cas showed up at the shop after he finished his last class. He was wearing jeans again, but at least they fit better and didn’t hang so low. This t-shirt was one he’d stolen from Dean…a Metallica concert tour shirt.

Dean greeted him with a kiss and introduced him to Charlie and Ash. All three of the artists had clients, so Cas sat down on the couch out front. He was drawn into their conversation by Charlie. “Dean says you have some awesome work, I’d like to see it.”

“Okay.” Cas gave her a tentative smile and went back to the book he’d brought to read.

“Like now, Big Boy. Lose the shirt.”

Dean had to laugh at Cas’ expression of sheer terror. “It’s okay, Babe. I won’t let them hurt you. Besides, Charlie and Ash both like girls, you don’t have to worry about your virtue.”

“I like boys,” Charlie’s client, a petite brunette called out and everyone laughed.

Cas stood up and he looked so shy that Dean wanted to…okay, he needed to stop thinking about getting Cas naked… He pulled the t-shirt over his head and let everyone admire his ink. He turned so they could see the work Dean had started on his back.  
“Impressive,” Ash said with a nod.

“Surely that’s not all you have?” Charlie teased.

“No, he’s got two on his calves and one on his…” Dean stopped abruptly.

Charlie crowed with laughter. “The prim and proper Professor has an ass tat. That’s great…wait, it is on his ass, right? He doesn’t have a dick tattoo…”

“No.” Dean and Cas both shouted at the same time.

“Thank God,” Charlie said. “Okay then, drop the pants. I want to see.”

“I don’t think that would be appropriate…” Cas started.

“Come on, don’t be a tease. Drop the pants.” Ash chimed in.

Cas looked at Dean for help. Dean shrugged. “They’ve seen all my ink. It’s only fair.”

Hesitantly, Cas unbuttoned his jeans. Dean had been teasing. He didn’t expect Cas to really do it. But then Cas’ jeans were around his ankles and the entire shop was staring at his boyfriend’s legs. Charlie even went so far as to go up to him and touch the work. How could Dean be jealous of Charlie, for God’s sake. He was being ridiculous. They had half naked people in the shop all the time. But this was Cas…his Cas.

And then Charlie pulled out the elastic on Cas’ boxers and peered down at Celtic dragon. Dean growled. Charlie looked up and gave him a raised eyebrow. “Territorial, aren’t we?”

“That one’s for my eyes only,” Dean said fiercely. “Pull up your pants, Cas. Show’s over.”

For the first time, Dean regretted Friday Movie Night. He wanted to get Cas alone and show the man who he belonged too. He wanted to mark him, so there was no doubt. Instead, he watched from the kitchen as Cas threw back his head and laughed at something Jess was saying. Everyone was here except for Benny. Dean still wasn’t sure if he was going to show up or not. They’d talked on the phone and Benny had good news about the divorce. Apparently, a private detective got pictures of the wife blowing some guy in a parking lot. Benny wasn’t going to have to shell out money for alimony and he was going to have visitation with his son.

Dean took the pigs-in-a-blanket out of the oven and when he turned around, Benny was in the living room. Cas’ posture was rigid. Dean dropped the pan on the stove and took off, oven mitts still on his hands. “Benny…hey…glad you could make it. This is my boyfriend, Cas. Cas, this is Benny. Cas is a professor at the university and he writes books. Ami James read his book. Ami is the one who told him about me. If you ever need anything to read, The Guardian is awesome…really awesome…”

Everyone in the room was staring at Dean. Dean stopped talking, realizing he’d had diarrhea of the mouth. “Uhm, well, foods ready.”

Cas stepped forward and held out his hand. Benny took it and they shook. Dean winced, it looked painful and both men tried to hide the fact they were rubbing their hands afterwards.

The movie played and Dean had given up his recliner to Charlie, while he and Cas leaned against the coffee table, using pillows from Dean’s bed to be more comfy. Cas acted all possessive when he thought Benny was looking at Dean. Secretly, Dean thought it was cool.

When they stopped the movie so everyone could refill their glasses and plates, Dean slipped out to the bathroom. When he came back, Benny and Cas weren’t in the living room. He rushed to the kitchen. They weren’t there either. Panic set in. Were they fighting in the front yard, rolling around like thugs? He grabbed Ash’s arm. “Where’s Cas?” he hissed.

“Your boyfriend and Benny went out on the back deck.”

“Son of a bitch.” Dean hit the back door so hard, he stumbled through it. Cas and Benny stopped talking and stared at him.

“See what I mean,” Benny said.

“Preaching to the choir,” came Cas bland reply. The two men clanked their beer bottles together.

Despite torture, Cas would not reveal what he and Benny talked about, but he got his revenge. He was pleased when Cas walked gingerly the next morning.

***Four Weeks Later***

Dean wiped away the last of the blood and ink. He sat back to admire his work. The wings were gorgeous, if he did say so himself. He gently rubbed the ointment around the newly tattooed skin and placed the bandage over it. Then he left a trail of kisses down Cas’ spine.

“Hmmm,” Cas murmured from his position on the table. “Do you kiss all your clients, Mr. Winchester?”

“Only the sexy blue-eyed ones.”

“That’s good to know.” Cas sat up and stretched. “So, we’re done then?”

“Yep.” He held out a mirror. “Go look.”

Cas took the mirror and walked back to the wall mirror in the back of the shop. He stared at it for a long time. So, long that Dean began to worry. “It’s okay, right?”

“Beyond okay, Dean. You are a gifted artist. The feathers look almost real.”

Dean preened a little. He couldn’t help it. “Come on, get dressed and let’s go home.” Dean still liked hearing that. Home. Cas moved in last week. He got a lot of teasing from his friends. Benny especially gave him a hard time about Dean’s new habit of getting up early and making Cas his lunch.

Cas introduced Benny to one of the other professors at the school and they seemed to be hitting it off. They had a double date planned for the following Friday. Dean remembered bitching about the fancy restaurant they were going to, because he didn’t want to wear a tie. Cas reminded him about how much fun ties could be.

Cas finished his latest book a week ago and it was on its way to the publisher. He’d let Dean read it. And yeah, he cried at the end…so sue him. It wasn’t his fault his boyfriend…fiancé was freakin’ talented.

Fiancé…now, that was taking some getting used to…he always thought he’d be the one to propose. Cas beat him to it. He’d created a monster when he advised Cas to dress more casually to relate to his students. Now, students were calling him or even stopping by the shop. The worst…okay…the best thing about Cas’ students… the proposal.

Cas invited Dean to sit in on one of his classes. So, he’s sitting there feeling self-conscious and clueless while Cas is waxing poetic about some author when he stopped talking and looked at Dean. Dean thought his fly was open or something.

He’d called him to come to the pulpit…whatever that thing was he stood behind…to help him with something. Dean stood there feeling like the biggest dork in the world with all those students staring at him and then it happened. They all stood up and held up signs. While Dean was staring, stunned, at the students, Cas got down on one knee.

Dean had to threaten every student there with death if they told anyone he cried. Somehow it got leaked to some student website and Charlie got a hold of the picture. He was going to kill them all…in their sleep…or maybe he’d tattoo the word asshole on their foreheads. That was better than death.

***  
His students were in on it. He innocently mentioned in class that he wanted to propose and suddenly, it was out of his hands. He was told to buy the ring and get Dean to the classroom. He wasn’t prepared by what they had done. Dean cried. It was a good day.

Moving in together wasn’t a smooth as Dean made it out to be. They fought. A lot. About everything. Finally, Dean’s house…their house…was a mixture of both their tastes. Castiel’s huge Kitchenaid Mixer stood next to Dean’s old coffeemaker. Castiel’s collection of rare books were on the bookcase that Dean made out of lumber from an old barn. Dean’s junk room that used to hold unused exercise equipment was now Castiel’s office.

Dean made him lunch every morning and Cas made dinner on weeknights. Weekends they shared kitchen duties.

Dean may have read the last book in the Angel Blade series, but he had no idea about the dedication. Castiel figured it would make Dean cry. It would be a good day. It was due for release in two months.

They did plan a wedding. It started out small, but grew as they added more people to the guest list. Castiel’s students and some of the faculty…people from Dean’s shop, including lots of clients…Gabe and some of the employees of Sweet Java…Crowley, who was now dating Alastair, who knew Crowley liked being bitten and whipped…Benny and the Professor of American History…Meg showed up with an underwear model…Ami James and Chris Nunez came with their wives…all in all, it was a lovely day. Castiel stood next to Charlie, beautiful in her long red gown, his eyes fixed on the ring on his finger. Dean was across the lawn with his arm around Sam. Dean held the newest addition to the Winchester family, Sam’s son Thomas, who was born on Castiel’s birthday. It was a good day.

Castiel had many good days since walking into that small tattoo shop.

***Three Years Later***

“Cas, she’s doing that thing again,” Dean called downstairs. Cas had been locked up in his office all morning and Dean had baby duty. Who knew a kid could poop so much. “Cas…” he yelled again.

“I’m right here, Dean,” Cas said from the doorway. His husband was wearing a pair of Dean’s ratty sleep pants and they were riding low on his hips. Dean forgot about Emma for a second to admire Cas’ body. Even after three years, he was still amazed at how gorgeous the man was. Emma’s whine brought his eyes back to their daughter. She was in her crib, legs kicking and fists shaking at Dean.

“She pooped again.”

“You called me up here to tell me Emma had a bowel movement?” Cas looked exasperated. Dean gave him what he hoped was his best sweet smile.

“It’s her third one today. It’s your turn.”

Cas exhaled in a huff. “Move.” He pushed Dean out of the way and looked down at their baby. “Hello, Precious. Daddy’s here.”

“Hey, Daddy is here too.” They were still arguing about what Emma was going to call each of them, for now, they were both Daddy.

Cas took Emma over to the changing table and took off her sleeper. Dean stood by him holding the baby powder. Cas unfastened the disposable diaper and both men cursed softly.

“Fuck.”

“Son of a bitch.”

“Language,” Cas chastised Dean.

“You said ‘fuck’, why are you riding my ass.”

Emma gazed up at her fathers and giggled. Then her fist found her mouth and she was content for the time being. Cas cleaned her tiny bottom and Dean applied the powder. “Come on, Daddy is going to take you downstairs to swing.” Cas grabbed her favorite stuffed toy, a Grumpy Cat Cas had found at Hot Topic. He still snickered when he remembered Cas calling it Hot Topical.

He followed Cas downstairs and into his office. Emma’s swing was set up in there. Cas tucked her in and turned on the motor. The swing began to rock back and forth. “What are you working on?”

“I’m working on a story about two men and an angel who stop the Apocalypse. I proposed the idea to Meg and she was interested.”

“You should write a book about an inked up superhero who saves this mild mannered professor from the clutches of an evil warlord.”

Cas blinked at him like he did sometimes. Dean called it the ‘why did I marry this idiot’ look. “It could work,” Dean said petulantly.

“Of course, it could, Dean. Perhaps you should try your hand at writing.”

“Like I got time…but if I did write it, I’d win a Pulitzer or something.”

Cas gave him the look again, this time over his reading glasses. Reading glasses Dean found incredibly sexy. “Speaking of time, how are the renovations coming?”

“Good, we’re still set to have the grand re-opening next Saturday.” The shop outgrew itself. Dean bought out the space next door once the bookstore folded. They were doubling their space and he already had three new artists set to start. Not bad for a high school dropout, Dean thought. He knew better than to say shit like that out loud. Cas’ threat about beating his ass…well, turns out it wasn’t a threat.

Dean looked up at the framed dedication page hung above Cas’ desk. He cried when he read it.

‘To Dean, the ink to my pen, the blue to my sky, the apple to my pie, the love of my life.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for taking this journey with me. Each and every comment from you is the ink to my pen.
> 
> I wish there was a way to meet each and every one of you. Maybe one day - when I win the lottery....

**Author's Note:**

> I was a big fan of Miami Ink and even though I don't have any ink, I've always admired the beautiful work that goes into them. I've tried to do a lot of research, but if I make any mistakes, please don't crucify me.
> 
> As always, this will have some angst, but a happy ending.
> 
> For those of you who like my stuff, I've created a FB group page. I'll post my stuff there and you can give me prompts. https://www.facebook.com/groups/550258875175871/


End file.
